Black Orchid
by Stu-P0t
Summary: Riku's life had been laid out for him. Planned, like a map, with smiley faces on events that were happy and sad ones on those that were not. But suddenly, just like that, it wasn't. Plans wither away, just like a black orchid flower. RiSo & others
1. Days Like These

**Disclaimer:** You know I don't own Kingdom Hearts. If I did, what would I be doing writing a fanfiction, hm? I'd be busy hooking up Sora and Riku in the games, sillies. Lyrics used are © Michael Buble and Electric Light Orchestra.

**Author's note:** Some of the dialogue isn't in quotes. It's just my style. So if you just skim paragraphs looking for quotation marks, you might not find them. You might want to look closely for that. x's are scene breaks (the scenes in italics are flashback or dream sequences).

Holy infinite thank-yous to my beta, **Jenova's Fifth**. This story wouldn't be half as good without all of her help, and as such you guys should all go dump praises on her. Seriously.

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**Black Orchid**

'Days Like These'

It was just another one of those days.

Those days where you wake up and just seem to slide forever from your bed. Those days where you feel like you've converted from human flesh to some strange, disgusting liquid goo. And yet, despite all efforts to thwart it, the whole day goes like this: it's sloppy--everything is soaked with sweat, drenched in the lava-like heat of summer, and you're left feeling filled to the brim with some sort of languor. Summer days made you lazy; summer days made you sick with the sun. Summer days made you…

Riku didn't feel clever enough to finish that last sentence. His sheets clung to his skin, hot and sticky and uninviting, twisted awkwardly around his legs-his thighs, his calves, and his ankles. He stretched and he stretched, toes curling and uncurling, and he kicked and he kicked, just like swimming. Swimming through fabric and sheets and mattresses. He just wanted the covering… _off_.

Kick, kick, kick. The sheets tangled up in his feet, forming a large mass of cotton and polyester at the base of his bed. Since when did he need so many fucking blankets? His fan had died and it felt something like two hundred degrees in the room. Two hundred degrees, man. Two hundred fucking degrees. Even though it was more like ninety-eight.

Silver strands of hair stuck to his forehead, matted clumps forming at his temples. Pretty boy looked so unkempt. Pretty boy looked so very… not Riku. It was the summer that did it; the summer made you fat and lazy, his mother would say. Summer was for relaxing, Riku would respond. Summer was for making stupid plans and doing stupid things, because you had all that time to waste. Summer was for lying out on the asphalt driveways and playing ball in the street. Summer was for killer tans--and for killer sunburns.

Summer was for… not thinking about what summer was for.

Sunlight violated his windows, filtering through the curtains and the blinds. Stray breams flooded his vision and caressed his skin. The sun was getting intimate with him… he had to remind himself to get darker curtains. Maybe crimson, or wine red… or something obnoxious like chartreuse green. _Obnoxious, huh._

One leg at a time, Riku started the process of becoming a solid again. Damn summer heat. Where was the fresh spring rain and all the pretty, pretty flowers? Pretty flowers… what was he, some sort of flaming homosexual? ...If he had to be a flower, he would have been a pansy. Except, no--really he would have been a snapdragon. Maybe a hyacinth… the hyacinth from Greek legends. Oh so wonderfully tragic. His left hand instinctively groped around on the little nightstand, feeling for that little orange cylinder. Full of pills. Full of a life he once had all planned out, now replaced by little white drugs. Slender, pale digits closed around the bottle. Pop went the top.

(_Mama had a baby and its head popped off._)

Out came the pills, little white guts spilled into his hand. And he knocked back just two, swallowing dry. It was far too hot to swallow it dry.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. __Is the weather all you can think about?__ It's hot. Of _course_ it's fucking hot in the middle of nowhere town._

The house was quiet, empty… Riku didn't live alone; after Roxas had heard what happened, he'd packed his stuff, moved in with his aunt, and dragged 'Ri-Ri' in with him. Like hell Roxas was going to see his best friend suffer after… after…

Roxas wasn't home, and neither was Tiffany. They were nice people by the general population's standards. Friendly, kind, hospitable, easygoing. In Riku's warped, powder blue opinion (yes, his opinion had its own_ color_), they were… They were just Roxas and Tiffany. They'd extended their hand toward him, and without waiting for him to reach back, they had just grasped, clasped, and tugged. The decision had been made for Riku, and he wasn't about to go complaining about it. Sure they didn't have an air conditioner, and sure they were just a little bit too sweet (overbearing? Sweet like candy? Sweet… like two bears?), but they'd provided him with food and a roof over his head. After what happened. After what happened; his sad, sorry little mantra. The secret (which wasn't even really a secret) was buried like a worm inside his bosom. Wriggle, wriggle, wriggle. Riku felt like an infected apple. A caramel-coated candy apple that's just _rotted_ from sweetness. They couldn't help it. They didn't know any better. They were just trying to help.

He set the bottle down, pills shaking against each other. They jumped… jumped like little Mexican jumping beans. He left the cover off; how irresponsible. How lazy. How Riku.

His feet finally made contact with cool, smooth wooden floor. All of it was polished, neat, beautiful. Riku remembered the house before it had gone under construction; it had had a pleasant sort of feeling that just said 'home'. Now the few memories he had here were painted over with a coat of fresh white. Everything in the spare bedroom had been moved out. Everything… except the bed and the nightstand. And George. George his stupid little monkey that he should have just thrown in the goddamned trash already. The monkey was well worn around the edges, his fur loved down to something increasingly more dull than it'd originally been. Roxas wanted to get rid of George; George was a part of Riku. Riku had just looked his friend in the eye plainly. Oh so very plainly. Do you want to get rid of a piece of me? Riku had asked. That isn't fair, Roxas had replied. He's a piece of him, not you, he added. And then Riku told Roxas to just please, get out of the room now. And that's exactly what Roxas did.

Roxas liked to think he understood just what his friend was going through. He tried his best to console Riku in his own lovable punk ass way, but consolation was not something Riku wanted. He'd aimed for the grand prize; he didn't want to settle for a measly little two-dollar gift card that most people called 'consolation'. George, with his slightly scratched marble brown eyes, stared and understood. Because he'd been touched by the same loving hands; he'd been kissed by the same soft, pink mouth. A kiss for good luck. If good luck meant aces down the hole instead of up his sleeve; if good luck meant the opposite of what it was supposed to mean. You're going to be okay, right? You know your parents wrote you, right? Roxas reminded him of these things when he thought Riku was beginning to forget. Roxas held his hand when he thought his fingers were beginning to slip. It's no big deal, Riku would say. No big deal at all, he'd reiterate. I know, he'd say. I really know.

Riku finished the sentence, finally. Summer days made you visit psyche wards.

The room was empty. Nothing in here said 'Riku'. Not the bed, not the blankets… only the pill bottle and the depressing-looking little monkey. George knows best. George knows what to do.

xxx

"_I'm sorry you… moved for him. Doesn't make sense… not at all. He loved you, right?"_

"_George loves me now."_

"_Cut that shit out, Riku. It's freaky."_

"_Sorry." He wasn't sorry. He'd meant what he'd said before. He didn't want to talk about anything… didn't want to talk about why he'd moved, what had made him get away, what had happened._

"_I wish he could've explained," Roxas murmured._

"_It's better not to know." Riku turned over on his side, pillow over his head. That meant that the discussion had essentially ended. He'd said what he wanted to say, and if Roxas pressed the issue, Riku would press _him_ right into the mattress._

xxx

"It's better not to know," he repeated drearily, stroking his monkey's head before he stood back on two feet again. _Whoa… it's harder to stand than I remember. Jelly legs… fuck. It hurts. It still hurts…_

Tiffany had been helping Riku; living with a massage therapist had its perks, after all. Riku just had to deal with all the… other clients in and out of the house all the time. Business out of the house was easier for her, and if she could help it that's where she'd work. Today she was at the clinic, Riku remembered. Riku remembered because Tiffany had posted her work schedule above his bed, in case he needed some TLC—in case he needed her. But Riku didn't ask for much… mostly he just asked for nothing at all, save for peace and quiet.

His aqua eyes met with his door for the first time. A yellow Post-It was stuck to the wood, and in scratchy letters a note had been scrawled down. Riku couldn't read it from here. Numbly he continued forward. Jelly legs, jelly legs, wobble wobble wobble. The air around him felt thick, tense, like he was marinating in a vat full of solid butter. Butter… disgusting. Step step, wobble. Ack, shit, damn! _crash_.

Riku wasn't just unstable on his feet… Riku wasn't just clumsy with his body. That's why he'd left. But at least he was strong-willed; stubborn and ornery was more like it, honestly. Roxas suggested crutches and Riku flat out refused. The old Riku would have laughed and said, 'Honestly, Roxy, you're cramping my style.' The new, town-in-the-middle-of-nowhere Riku just tiredly, crankily refused.

xxx

"_I want to go to school. Like… with somebody else."_

"_I'm… not quite sure what you mean?" His mother was a pretty little thing with a delicate, natural pout. Silver hair; blue eyes._

"_I… you know. I need to move away from this place. He's somewhere else. A… teacher at a university. He's willing to admit me, 'cause…"_

_Sigh. "Riku… you know you need to clear these things by me in advance. That's why we're always planning. Your father and I-"_

"_Mom," Riku interrupted softly, "it's not about dad. It's…" He wrung his hands, searching desperately for the words. "…about what I really want."_

_She pursed her lips. "Let me talk to Catherine about it."_

_Riku always hated Katherine with a C._

_xxx_

Riku picked himself up from the floor, slowly rising to a crouch, then from there just extending up and up and up… until he was standing all the way back on his two feet. What he really wanted… it was funny; he'd been so sure of it back then. It was so vivid, clear, tangible… but now the idea of being somebody just annoyed him. Being young did strange and not-so-wonderful things to your brain. Being young made you stupid. Youth is wasted on the young.

Riku extended two pale fingers, skimming the text, feeling it and examining it before actually deciphering the letters. Roxas' scrawl used to be so endearing. Roxas' jokes used to make him laugh. It would all just take time, they said. Time to heal, time to clear his head. He didn't want to clear his head… everything he thought about was in some way connected to…

_Riku, bus fare's on the table. I know you can't walk, don't be so stubborn. I'll be at the shack all day. If you're not here, I'll kill you. I know where you sleep._

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Roxas_

Somehow, Roxas had managed to cram all of that onto one little Post-It note. Some of the ink had been a little smudged, and overall the message was hard to make out. Stupid Roxas; why didn't he just use two of those obnoxious little yellow sticky reminders? Why couldn't he have just left a note for him on the table instead? Yellow would have caught his attention. Riku hated yellow.

Using the walls for support, Riku stumbled into the den and picked up the spare cash Roxas had left for him. Kind, sweet Roxas. Why couldn't Riku have loved him instead? Why couldn't Riku have just enjoyed his friend's company instead of getting involved in this ridiculous scandal and getting moved to a place he essentially hated for no good reason? And Roxas had moved down here with him so that he wouldn't be alone. That was friendship. Yet, all Riku managed to do these days was gripe at him and pick fights with him. Well... maybe not all the time. Just a good majority of it.

Money, table, clothes… shoes? Riku's feet were bare. He was wearing an outfit from yesterday that he couldn't remember having fallen asleep in. Summer made you forget, because one day blended into the next. Summer made you fat and lazy. _Guess what, Mom? Summer makes you heartbroken and crippled._ Riku's white tank top and blue shorts were fine to go outside in… the boy simply ran one of Tiffany's combs through his slightly sticky hair and slipped on Roxas' shoes.

Sometimes he didn't feel like Riku.

Sometimes he felt like he could just blend into the wall, and that would be fine. That would be just peachy. If only Roxas and Tiffany would stop their worrying. He was fine. Fine fine fine, he insisted. And still they insisted, in turn, that he wasn't.

Riku hobbled to the door, grabbed the doorknob, and twisted. It was sweltering. Just melt-your-face-right-off sweltering. Riku imagined his face just sliding down to the ground, forming a pale-looking puddle on the brick walkway. That would just be _so_ pleasant. He wondered if his face would look like a smiley face or a frowny face. Perhaps it was funny that his first concern wasn't that he might be without a face at all…just what that face might look like on the ground. _God, why do I have to be so fucking… different? No wonder he left. He's not coming back. Not ever._ Riku began hobbling over to the bus stop, slow and steady… slow and steady; he'd only fallen two times, which was a new record for him.

xxx

The bus ride was, for lack of a better word, awkward. Almost freakishly awkward. He'd paid the fare and then he'd scuffled down the aisles, looking for a seat that looked the most nondescript. Out of the way. Fourth row all the way to the left. Empty. Riku had almost fallen trying to get into his seat, and people gave him sideways glances that made him feel nervous. Great, Roxas. Leave him in a public place full of people he didn't know. _He was just trying to help_, Riku reminded himself, folding his arms into his torso and bringing his knees to his chest. People stared because he looked different. Silver hair--heh--isn't that just _so_ cool? Riku avoided eye contact. The bus hopped over a couple bumps, jostling its passengers. Bump, bump, thunk, clunk. Riku clutched his knees, fingernails digging into his kneecaps. _Stop acting so nervous. They're just people. People, just like you. …But before, you had _him_ to protect you. Or just the notion of him. _He'd stepped into Riku's life and then just… stepped out. Just like that. All of Riku's plans had unraveled before his very eyes. That was all right, though, wasn't it?

"You have Tiffany and I. Who needs stupid old L-" Roxas had tried to cheer him up; he'd stopped himself before finishing, though. Riku still winced at the uttering of just that one little letter; he didn't want to ever hear that name again. Too bad, so sad--he had picked the town where he lived. He couldn't escape him even if he wanted to.

The scenery went by just like a movie set in sepia tone. This town… it was suburban, yet at the same time Riku could envision giant tumbleweeds bouncing across the roads and near people's porches and white picket fences. Bump, bump, went the bus. Riku pressed his face against the glass, closing his eyes. At least, in here, it was air-conditioned. At least the shack had air conditioning. He was just waiting for the next stop, just waiting…

There had been a kid beside him wearing a big smiley-face shirt. It was supposed to make you happy. Riku frowned like a grumpy old man and the kid shied away--his aisle had thus been vacated. He liked being alone… nobody to bother him but his own thoughts. Nobody to judge him, to poke fun at his differences… Since when had he begun thinking that the whole world was out to get him… like it was their mission? Bump, bump, bump, shh. Creeeeaaaaaak. Oh, look, the stop. Funny how time went on like that. And in a sea of unfamiliar faces, Roxas was waiting for him to get off the bus. Charming Roxas; lovely Roxas; sweet, innocent Roxas. What the hell was wrong with him? Riku couldn't love him because he was innocent. Because he was too damn innocent, and after what had been done to him… Riku didn't know the meaning of innocence anymore. Some people were getting off the bus now. Riku was included in this minority… so he got off the bus, too. And he didn't fall this time.

"Hey, look." Roxas greeted him with a hug, which Riku returned with awkward affection and then just leaned up against his friend in defeat. _Take the high road home_, he thought idly. _Look at what?_ he thought after that. "You made it in one piece, it looks like."

"Does it?"

"…does it what?"

"Does it look like it, I mean." Riku, out of instinct, slung his arm over Roxas' shoulders. It was an old habit of his, one he hadn't broken quite yet. They weren't moving at the moment; the shack was just in sight, though. Not that far. Funny, the shack wasn't really a shack at all. It was some sort of record store meets coffee shop that Tiffany seemed rather fond of. Roxas had a steady job there, too. It almost made Riku feel bad for lazing about all day. Almost.

Roxas blinked. Several times, in fact, and then he gave a snort. "No, Riku, I just said that to be totally funny. The heat really is scrambling your brains."

"I thought I was melting, earlier," Riku said, and afterwards wondered why he'd even bothered.

"Aww, melty Riku ice cream. Don't worry… air conditioning will solidify you again."

"Roxas?"

"Mmhm?"

They were walking now, one lazy, casual step at a time. Broiling summer heat cooked their teenaged bodies. Roxas was too cute. He'd fuck over anyone who ever tried to hurt him, he'd decided. Just randomly, out of the blue. As blue as the blue, blue sky.

"You are one strange son of a-"

"Thanks," Roxas cut in. "I really appreciate that." He laughed. Riku attempted a laugh and sort of ended up snorting--and Roxas laughed at that, too.

Limp, limp, limp. Everything's going to be fine, they said. Fine fine fine fine fine. He'll walk just perfectly, they said. It'll just take a little while. Muscle rehabilitation, massage therapy… it's a real miracle, but he'll still walk. You're a real miracle, boy, they said. It was a miracle Riku didn't have it in him to hit girls. He was sure he might have killed the nurse. If he could have even got up to do so, ha. That was really something; just _rich_.

He remembered the days when he, the man with soft lips and hair that smelled like strawberries, would tell Riku, "I'm pining." And Riku would smile, laugh over the phone and say, "Me too." And then they wouldn't talk about pining after admitting it. They'd talk about college and coffee and pink being a 'manly' color; the smell of spring and school vacation and C.S. Lewis' Prince Caspian… and he'd say oh, hey, did you see that movie the other day? And Riku would pace about while talking, not knowing what to do with himself. Nervous nervous nervous. He'd talk about the beach and how much he missed it, and Riku would mention that there wasn't any water here, either. Not even a public pool for miles. And he'd say something about how Riku must be all dry and shriveled up, and Riku made a face and reassured him that he could still get it up for him. And they both laughed again -- oh how Riku missed laughing and the sound of _his_ laugh. Riku wasn't mushy (mushy brought to mind old, moldy fruit) or poetic, he just knew it was… different than anything he'd ever heard before. Not like bells; bells were stupid and hurt his ears and reminded him of church. Not like a melody… no, just like warm, running water.

And he missed that.

But reality was calling. There was no more time to remember that they'd said their _I miss you's_ and _I love you's_ and _I'll call you tommorow's_. There was no time to remember the way he -- him with the chocolate locks and the soft, running water laugh -- would press his lips against the receiver and say 'muah', and how Riku would say 'muah' back before hanging up the phone. No time at all.

"Tiffany called… she said she's just going to spend the day at the clinic; something came up, someone needs her there… can't remember the specifics. But that doesn't matter. Point is, you're staying with me today."

"Lovely," Riku responded, his tone dry and lacking any semblance of enthusiasm.

"You say that like somebody who's just been told they've got some sort of disease."

"And are you, Roxas? Some kind of disease, that is?"

"That's yet to be confirmed." Roxas grinned and shook his head. They were only a few feet from the door now. The silence between them extended for a couple meters, but Riku could hear the faint hint of hustle and bustle inside the building. It wasn't a shack, but it sure was sound-proofed like one. (That is, to say, not at all).

"I just don't want to be in your way," Riku cut in awkwardly. Limp limp limp. He felt like a pathetic, wounded animal, limping away. Just like Igor and his hunched back. Roxas didn't really seem to notice.

"What are you, stupid? You're never in my way. Not mine nor my aunt's." The grammar in that sentence was wrong, Riku was sure. It almost made him cringe, but… Roxas had said it and he wasn't going to un-say it (and by the looks of it he wasn't going to correct himself). "You've gotten so weird, Ri."

"It makes me… uncomfortable." He did this weird sort of thing with his shoulders that could have been considered a shrug, but his arm over Roxas' shoulder mostly got in the way. "I'm not used to this place yet."

There was another ill-at-ease silence, as if a ghost had just drifted right on, brushing their skin and traveling right through them. Roxas shifted. Riku shifted.

"Well you're not in my way...you're never in my way," Roxas repeated. They were approaching the door, every so slowly. Riku's limping was less pronounced, less… Well, you couldn't tell he had broken both his legs the year before. Now wasn't _that_ a funny story? The little family (as much as Roxas, Tiffany and Riku could be considered one) avoided the subject like the plague.

"Okay," Riku answered, even if it wasn't, and that was the end of that. _Why do you lie, Riku?_ His mind nagged him. _Because it's easy_, he'd reply.

The doors opened just like floodgates; he could hardly remember Roxas even having opened them before they were greeted by a pleasant gush of chilly air and a rather _un_pleasant amplification of noise. Chatting, blaring music, yelling orders--_headache central_. It almost made him forget about the dull aching in his legs and the fact that he felt as if he'd turn into a human puddle at any moment. Almost this, almost that. Almost almost almost. Never completely, never all the way, always always always not quite right. Could Riku never be satisfied with what the world gave him?

He limped in, greeted by a visceral rush of colors and shapes of all shades and sizes. Overwhelming. He'd never seen this much yellow in his whole life… or red, or purple or green, or…

Roxas ushered him in before he was completely overwhelmed by the sheer… _newness_ of the environment. It wasn't the shack he remembered. It was all re-done, painted over, just like Tiffany's house… just like Tiffany's house, except a thousand times more insufferable. God, how he hated yellow; it was like one big, ugly eye-sore.

"We gave it a little make-over," Roxas announced over the pulse of the throbbing, ear-pounding music. How did people _eat_ here? How could people _stand_ it? It was more like… strip mall meets rave party. "I guess it's a little loud; don't worry, I'll fix it. I saved you a seat. Ack, just one second." Roxas was saying a million different things at once, and the music was drowning them all out. A _little_ loud?

Usher, usher, usher. Shuffle, shuffle, step step. Here's your seat Riku, don't worry I'll be right back. Oh and just… oh, nevermind, I'll be right back. Shuffle shuffle shuffle away.

Well… Riku seated himself at the wooden table on the quaint little wooden chair. What _was_ this, Goldilocks and the Three Bears? He tossed his pretty little head, elbows resting on the table's glossy, polished surface, jaw resting in his palms. Pound, pulse, throb went the incessant noise. Riku was most certainly _not_ going to spend the whole day here while Roxas worked his shift. No way, Jose. No way in hell.

Strip mall had been a little too… generous of a description. The Shack (its appropriate name, capitals included) was just a little place that was all sort of… open. There was a right side of the room, a left side of the room, and it was all… open. There seemed no other accurate description. The walls were yellow. Beanbag chairs in the corners were assorted primary colors; all the racks of CDs were situated on the right side of the room. In the middle of the room there was this… this…

Riku wasn't sure how to describe it.

There were two steps leading upward, another little platform-floor with more tables (made out of metal) and little chairs. At the farthest back point of the center of the room there was a long, sleek counter and a cash register. At all sides of the room there were speakers, and that… was probably quite apparent, judging by the noise.

All around him were people. People perusing, browsing, people loitering, people drinking iced coffee, people drinking smoothies… all sorts of people, people, people.

xxx

"_The shack is really cozy. You'll like it."_

"_Cozy… cozy like how?"_

"_It's just a little bookstore not too far from my house. Hardly anyone visits… It's quiet, but not library quiet." He was prattling on; warm running water take me away, Riku wanted to say. Drown me… _

"_Quiet is nice," Riku said. "I like quiet. I want to visit… it must be nothing like Georgiatown."_

"_Georgiatown, huh?"_

"_You know, the stupid name my friends and I came up with for this boring place?"_

"_Right, Georgiatown. And little ol' George. How's he doing?"_

"_Good," Riku said._

_xxx_

Riku noticed their uniforms were yellow, too. Roxas' was not… Roxas' was black and white; Roxas' was simple, proper--it made his 'manager of the shack' status more apparent. A white tee and black shorts, decorated with the company's logo on said attire. And he had a blue little sticker on the right of his breast that read, 'Hi, my name is ROXAS'. Roxas was the perfect manager. Roxas was…

All of the employees wore yellow. Yellow tops with white shorts or skirts. And those maddening yellow tops had the same huge smiley face on them as the kid on the bus had had. _Smiley face, smiley face, get away from me… what is it with this fad? What is it with this _town_?_ They had matching stickers, just like Roxas', except… well, except they said their own names, and not Roxas'. Like the one kid with the bright blue eyes, and the brown brown hair… brown like mud pies, Riku thought. Brown like the hair that smelled like strawberries. Brown like… the not-so-poet was running out of similes. And, distractedly, he wondered what Sora's hair smelled like. 'Hi, my name is SORA' his name tag said. Sora sorted CDs. Riku noticed the music had grown faintly, faintly quieter. At least now he didn't want to vomit.

'Hi, my name is SORA' turned around. He was close, not too far away from Riku's table… and he reminded Riku of better days. Prettier days. Spring days and strawberries and cute little fair prizes like George. But Sora wore that stupid yellow shirt and that dumb little name-tag, and humorously large shoes. People these days. People and their fashion. Riku didn't have the right to complain; he was being taken care of. He was being pampered and watched over, and Tiffany and Roxas were doing the best damn job they could manage. Riku… Riku still didn't appreciate it, in a way. He wanted them to stop trying. It made him feel like… like he stuck out like some sort of sore thumb; some sort of random, agonizing annoyance. His mother had always called him spoiled, but everyone… they just didn't _understand_ that he didn't want what most people wanted. He was exceedingly low-key; when everyone around him tried to make him happy with their magnificent gestures of niceness… it just bothered him in the worst kind of way. People didn't understand that he was simple and he didn't need anything elaborate. Yet they would try, try, try anyway.

The music was… softer now. The melody had mellowed out, sort of like how a brook babbles over rocks. It was slower, more tolerable, more… Riku. Stupid Roxas paid attention to everything, didn't he? No, wait… it was Sora who was fiddling with the radio now. Sora, the boy who looked like his breath-taking, heart-stealing, perfect perfect _perfect_ lover. _Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore… hold me close, sway me more._ Riku closed his aqua, aqua eyes and let a sigh slip through his pretty pink lips. Roxy, I'm bored, he'd say at times like this. Roxas would make a silly face, and then he would try to find something fun for them to do (which usually ended up being nothing at all. They liked to spend their time doing absolutely nothing -- though maybe smores were included into the 'nothing' package, occasionally). Then they'd talk about life, and about Riku's lover, and about how Riku was going to move pretty far away. Mostly, though, they'd talk about nothing… nothing at all. And Riku's dad would plan a future for his son, and Roxas' dad wouldn't care either way. They were just kids. But Riku had some semblance of a plan. Back then, anyway.

_It's not about dad. It's about… what I really want._

"You must be Riku." He talked just above the music, voice a thrumming lullaby. Riku's eyelids lifted, revealing his less-than-enthralled gaze. You must be Riku… who the hell goes around saying things like that? It jostled the silver-haired boy a little, though. Boy, boy… he should have been considered an adult, but by all respects was still a child. Riku didn't respond. He could have been a smartass and said, no, sorry, my name isn't Riku… but he didn't. He chose to say nothing at all, blinking.

Nonplussed, Sora stretched out his hand in a sort of greeting. A truce, perhaps? Considering how Riku acted, that's all it could be. "I'm Sora," he said. It was easy… easy like honey that sweetens bitter tea.

"I see that," Riku said, eyes hooded by black lashes. He didn't take Sora's hand; the brunette took the hint, dropping his hand easily back to his side. No harm done. "Your shoes are untied," he added as an afterthought, because they were.

"Huh? Oh, right." And Sora bent down to tie his shoelaces, managing to hit his head on the table as he went down. "Oww--mmm damn," he mumbled, rubbing his head, and then proceeded to double-knot those troublesome laces. They were green, his shoes were white. White like a sort of dirty piece of paper. He stood, brushing his clothes down with his hands, and smiled a stupid little smile. It would have been charming if it didn't remind Riku of… "Thanks," he said. "Can I help you with anything today? We've got specials and we've got smoothies," he offered.

_He must get tired of saying that_, Riku thought. He wondered exactly how many times Sora had listed the specials of the day to potential customers. He wouldn't make him say it again. "I'm good, thanks."

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

"I can't get you water or anything?"

Riku blinked. Those blue eyes were just… they were studying him; as blue as the ocean on a blue, blue day. "Said I'm good," he repeated. He could have used a glass of water, in all actuality. It was already cool in here, though. The air conditioning blew in currents all around the open space, just like an icy, reassuring hand on Riku's shoulder.

"Okay--I'll be here if you need anything." Sora turned to leave, pivoting on the balls of his feet.

"Wait."

"Mm?" He glanced over his shoulder.

"Did Roxas ask you to check on me?"

"Nope," he responded with a laugh, scratching his head. _His_ laugh was like the pitter patter of rain in the middle of a summer's day. "You're a customer, and I work here. I'd be fired if I let customers sit around waiting all day."

"I wasn't waiting," Riku said.

"I'm not a mind-reader," Sora countered. His smile was lazy, slow, genuine. "Like I said… if you need me, just give me a ring-a-ling-ding." He turned again, and this time flitted away.

He… Sora just left him alone. Did he know that Riku didn't want to talk? Had he been the first to take the hint that… maybe, just maybe, he didn't want anything? Huh. The corner of Riku's lip twitched up into a slight smile. Mud, honey, and rain… lazy, lazy summer days. Sora was _him_ all over again. Maybe it hurt a little bit, but in a way it made him smile.

By this time Roxas poked his head out of the storage room. Riku hadn't noticed, but he'd been tending customers; a few had left, but now a line had formed by the counter in the middle of the room. Sora had trotted off to make smoothies. Riku looked away, gaze wandering, mind following after. _What am I doing here, anyway? I promised I wouldn't…do it again. I don't need to be watched anymore. I… hey, there's a stain on that bean bag chair._ Along with a stain there was a girl, sitting pretty with another, playing a game of cards. One had red hair, and the other had brown. The brown-haired girl reminded him of… puppies.

He just wanted to go home, air conditioning or not. Sora or not. Girls that looked like puppies and smooth, smooth music or not.

_When we dance you have a way with me. Stay with me, sway with me._

Riku stretched, sighed, and folded his hands together, threading his fingers together and resting them on his lap. He was sitting still, barely fidgeting, just like a good little boy should. Riku could remember being a good little boy. It was a long, long time ago, but... it was there in his memory. Somewhere in his memory. Along with visions of Dr. Seuss and piñatas and visits to the beach. He was such a good, good little boy… maybe he'd stopped trying when his mother wasn't a good, good mother anymore. Ha, ha ha. Riku didn't feel like making excuses for her anymore; he pursed his lips and fixed his gaze on the puppy-girl.

"Got any sixes?" she asked quite plainly.

"You cheat," the red-head whined, forked over her card, and seemed to sulk.

"How about any twos?"

"Go fish," she mumbled, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes were as blue, blue, blue as Sora's. Why were there so many blue eyes in this town? The brown-haired girl seemed to be the only one with green eyes.

Their game stopped for a moment; Riku's observation stopped for a moment. Riku and the girl stared for a moment, met gazes, and then looked away. Sora was there, tending to their orders. Maybe that's what made Riku look away.

The music faded away, and Riku laid his head on the table. Summer days were for doing nothing, nothing at all… summer days, sleep the day away. _One summer dream, one summer dream... One summer dream, one summer dream._ The music here was just… just…

Just like his day. Days like these, they go on forever. Days like these, people walk in and out, and in and out again.

xxx

"_Will you come home, Riku? You're running out of excuses… just come home again."_

_His thumb slid over the device; he was pondering, pondering… should he hang up, or should he face the conversation? "I'm not going to come home, mother. I'm going to go to school here. I told you… Aunt Catherine said it'd be good for me."_

"_Well Aunt Catherine's not here anymore, is she?"_

_Wait… What was that supposed to mean?_

"_Mom?"_

_Pause._

"_I miss you. I want to come home, I just… can't." Riku couldn't help but murmur.  
_

_Click._

"_Mom?"_

_xxx_

"Hey, sleepy-head. Is lazing about all you ever do?" Somebody was talking. Riku lifted his heavy eyelids, bleary vision taking in a figure. Why did everyone's eyes have to be so blue? But it was Roxas. Endearing, like-a-brother Roxas.

"It's a miracle I could sleep with all this noise," Riku murmured, lifting his tired head, silver hair ruffled and mussed.

"You look like a molting chicken," Roxas laughed. "I've got lunch break," he added.

"Roxy, I wanna go home."

"I'd love to let you, but-"

Another song was playing. Sleep made Riku feel so, so delirious.

"Why can't you just come home? I'm tired, I'm feeling shitty, I'm…" he sounded aggravated. Was he lashing out at Roxas for no particular reason? Why yes, yes he was. Just like a little, immature child.

Roxas sighed, looking quite defeated. He raised his hands and let them drop again, slack at his sides, limp and hanging. Riku appreciated the fact that Roxas' uniform was neither yellow nor smiling at him.

"I'll see what I can do. Maybe Sora can manage the shack for a little while."

Sigh, sigh. "How d'you know him?"

"Family friend," Roxas answered with a slight smile. "He's nice--I trust him."

Riku ran a hand through his hair again, fingers separating silver strands. "Tell me more about him later," Riku surprised himself by saying.

"O…kay," Roxas answered, puzzled, but turned and wandered off.

The brown-haired girl and the red-head were gone. Several other customers came and went, but they weren't people Riku would remember. They weren't people that would understand. They were just… people.

And when Roxas came back hailing good news, Riku just sighed. Again and again with the sigh. But he tried to smile just a little.

"Just until Tiffany comes back," Roxas murmured.

"I can take care of myself," Riku mumbled back.

"Sure you can," Roxas finished, but didn't mean it.

I think he likes you, he'd told Sora. And Sora just smiled and asked, Really? but it was the kind of response that made Roxas sure that Sora wouldn't bother Riku. Riku always came to hate those he liked… because those that he liked just bombarded him until he began to hate them. Riku had even hated Roxas at first. At first.

"Sure I can," Riku unnecessarily repeated, filling up the silence.

And they took the bus home, and they watched television until Tiffany arrived. And then Roxas turned to leave again. And then Riku asked him again to tell him more about Sora later.

Then Roxas said okay, like he had before, and left for the shack for the last time that night.

_Okay_, Riku thought, all the while Tiffany made dinner.

* * *

**A/N:** So, that's the end of chapter one. The ending's supposed to be fast like that. This is a really, really new style for me, so... tell me if you like it or not, yeah? Also, please… if you find some error in the feeling of realism, feel free to tell me. I'm all for constructive criticism. And, in general, I'd appreciate it if you could share your opinion of the fic. Cliché, overdone, flimsy? Boring, moves too slow? Love it or hate it? Lay it on me with some reviews, please and thank you.


	2. Breakfast at Tiffany's

**Disclaimer:** Yes, I **do** know that the title of this chapter happens to be a horrible, horrible pun. I don't own any rights to the movie, the song, etc. Don't own any other pop culture references (too lazy to list them all). Don't own Kingdom Hearts; if I did I might ruin it.

**Author's note: **Your reviews are lovely, thank you. This fic will continue for a handful of chapters more, and I'll try to get them written in a reasonable amount of time. (They'll all be at least 6k words each.) I pretty much know where the story is going, so no aimless wandering. I'm usually slow in updating, but… I'll try my best not to take eons between chapters.

**P.S.** This chapter is for Cycoranne; Mayday's Parade is love, thanks for leading me to their music.

* * *

**Black Orchid**

'Breakfast at Tiffany's'

The air was stale. When, though, in summer, was the air not stale and suffocating and generally unbearable? When it rained, maybe it brought some comfort, but Riku couldn't remember the last time it rained. They were in the middle of an uncomfortably hot (hot, hot, so very damn _hot_) drought, and the silver-haired once-was athlete swore that if rain were to so much as sprinkle over this town, the ground would sizzle and steam like a hot pan cleaned with cold water. It would sizzle and it would spit and it would crack the earth worse than an earthquake; the very thought made Riku wet his lips with a quick flick of his pink, pink tongue. The dryness of the atmosphere made his otherwise alabaster skin slightly red, scratchy, and even scaly around his knuckles. His lips hardly remained moist, and were often splitting in the cruelty of this blistering heat. He didn't even want to _mention_ the fact that Tiffany's house lacked air conditioning; the reflection brought a miserable sort of depression, agony, and the overdramatic (but perhaps plausible) mention of heat stroke. I swear I'm going to die of heat stroke, Riku would complain, sprawled out awkwardly on the couch. Oh, would you stop, Tiffany would chide and tsk and shake her head, because when it came down to it the three of them were in the same boat. So Riku grit his teeth, sighed, and learned to stop complaining (out loud, anyway).

Not only was the air stale, but it carried a vague, disgusting smell of sweat mixed with fresh flowers. Tulips, to be exact. They were Juliet's favorite flower, but Riku never thought to ask why. He'd always been so caught up in his own opinions, his own troubles… he just didn't concern himself with others and what went on around them. He used to be a kind, sweet boy… but you can't please everybody, and maybe that's where he stumbled, tripped, and started rolling down hill. He used to like to play tag and he used to like to pick flowers for Juliet, and he used to like to entertain his father by spending quality time with him. He used to like math and he used to like to run, and he used to like having lots of friends, but lately… he just wasn't so sure. Juliet was a creature of habit; Riku followed no schedule and sometimes forgot to eat for days at a time. Juliet liked to change and decorate things; Riku was slow and irritable when it came to spontaneity and abrupt adjustments. Juliet… never really had a knack for telling jokes. But then again, neither did Riku.

xxx

"_Do you like my tulips?"_

"_Yeah, they're cool, I guess." The whole house always smelled like them. Tulips and lilacs… and perfume._

"_Do you love my tulips?" She prodded._

"_Yeah, sure," he answered again._

"_Then why don't ya kiss 'em?" she laughed. Juliet always liked to be silly when she was happy._

_xxx_

Yes… if there had to be any trait Riku shared with his mother, it was that he was shitty at remembering punch lines and his puns and jokes were as stale as the sour, musty summer air. But he had her hair; he had her eyes and her smile… so they were associated by appearance. They couldn't have been more different (worlds apart happened to be a dreadful understatement), but by the world's standards they were a match made in heaven. It seemed funny how shallow the world could be. But Riku was shallow and human and fallible, too. If he bit the world in the ass for its faults, it'd bite him back and call him a hypocrite. But he was a hypocrite, anyway, no matter who said or didn't say it. You're a lazy, passive aggressive, hypocritical martyr, Riku, Juliet would seethe. You leave it to me to pick up this place and to pick up your shit, and all you want to do is hang out with Roxas. And when I'm nice, it doesn't work. And when I scream, you act like a kicked puppy. Stop acting like a martyr, Riku, stop. And she had a point, which was the most awful part of all. Riku couldn't remember her ever acting more despondent in her _life_ than when he mentioned that things didn't work out and he ended up living with, guess who, _Roxas_. It was his idea, Riku would sputter. Juliet would counter with an argument-winning, But you still went _along_ with it. That was the finishing blow. Checkmate, Riku had thought. And then he'd respond with I'm sorry, mom (even if he wasn't), but by that time she'd have already hung up.

Needless to say, he and his mother weren't on good terms. Everyone knew, too, that that meant he and his father weren't on good terms simply by default. But they wrote, Roxas would remind him. He'd remind him, and Riku would ignore the reminder. And then Roxas would leave him alone, getting the hint.

Today the television was on, blaring some freakish advertisement for Kool-Aid. You'd think it was some sort of medicine, like its counterpart Band-Aid, but no… it was capable of putting children into diabetic comas. The thought of all that (unnatural) sugar made Riku cringe. Any artificial sweeteners or additives didn't agree with his body, and in short he'd just vomit them back up again. Riku was needy, even if he didn't ask to be. His mother found him a nuisance with all the special care he required (she didn't, really-Riku, the so-called oppressed teenager, simply imagined that Juliet was fed up with him), and in time he was sure that Tiffany and Roxas would feel the same way. You're lucky to live with such a kind mother, people would tell him. Knowing someone and living with them happened to be two very, very different things. Riku learned that when he first moved in with his best friend and his best friend's aunt. Not everything was smiley faces and rainbows. Not everything was sunshine and roses, even if you planned it that way. Not even with your best friend.

The Kool-Aid man jumped through a wall, destroying everything in his path. And people were happy about that; people cheered about that. He, the man that (essentially) ruined Riku's life, burst forth from the debris and Riku only wanted to punch him and scream at him and destroy his very existence. But because Riku was a nice kid, he bit his lip and he nodded. That's all right, he said. I understand, he said. And he was left without an explanation, because Riku didn't really want an explanation. He just wanted to cry and cry and cry. And when he was finished, he wanted to cry some more. But that was the only relationship that Riku ever cried over. He cried so long and so hard over it that he figured it made up for all of the times that he _didn't_ cry. All of it was stupid, anyway. All of it was worth forgetting, anyway.

There rang cries of victory from the kitchen as if triumphant hails to the winner of a war. Curious, Riku flopped over on his other side, peering over the top of the couch into the open dining area. He half-expected there to be some sort of trumpets blasting and proclaiming their conquest, but then remembered that this was not, in fact, some silly little Spanish soap opera. Almost regrettably, this was real life, because if it were a soap opera… the director would yell cut and the actors would drive on home to lead their normal, less dramatic lives.

"I've done it! Eureka, I've done it! Now, witness my victory dance!" How someone could dance in this heat was beyond Riku; how someone could move in the ways Tiffany could move was so far past him that he just didn't… even want to think about it.

"You've done what, exactly?" Riku called softly, inquiry vaguely scratchy, almost like rough, rough sandpaper.

"Only saved the world as we know it, dear Riku!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes! Tell me that you love me!"

"That depends on what you've done, really."

"I told you, saved the world! Now sing my praises or I shall undo my magic."

"You're… really bad at dancing?" Riku offered lamely. "Oh, wait, compliments. Right."

"You are _horrible_! No wonder Juliet gave you away so hastily."

"_Hey_."

"An eye for an eye, my friend. An eye for an eye." She paused, seeming to laugh and snort in the same instant. "But hey, I guess you don't want, oh… a working _fan_?"

Riku blinked. Then he blinked again, realization settling over him. A… working fan.

"…_but does he see why kids love Cinnamon Toast Crunch?"_ the television ad asked. Bzzrt, went the television ad. Off went the television.

"How you got that thing to work, I don't even want to know," Riku mumbled; he had actually been telling the truth. As long as there was a breeze (man-made or otherwise), he wasn't about to question its origins or how it came about. As long as it didn't die out on him, he'd be happy.

Riku peeled himself off the couch; his pale, muscled limbs stretched ever so lightly, his legs preparing for their venture into another room. He managed his pain as well as he could… as well as he could with the help of a couple little white pills. So he stretched… he stretched and he stretched and he pushed himself to a sitting position, toes meeting once again with the familiar, cool feeling of hardwood. Ah, to be cool in the midst of this blazing, merciless sauna. Riku stood, and it seemed to take everything in him to not sit back down again; injuries could change a person… change an athlete into a couch potato. His muscles, though not as defined, were still lean and long and entirely visible. He still walked; he never let his muscles atrophy too horribly. Sitting around all day, every day… it really killed a person's motivation. But… Riku didn't really consider himself a person anymore. Maybe because people hurt other people, and he just didn't want to be a part of that animosity.

It hurt to stand, and hurt even more to shamble over to the kitchen one slow step at a time. But… he was Riku Inoue. Above the… top, was it? What the hell was that supposed to mean, anyway? His first (nor last) name had nothing to do with how absolutely, freakishly stubborn he was. But it did have something to do with how utterly… Riku Inoue he was. And Riku Inoue was one stubborn, tenacious son of a bitch. Thus, his limping toward Tiffany could be observed with nonchalance; that was just how Riku did things. That was just how Riku worked. He pushed through obstacles (even if he did need a few walls to support him on his way) as if they were never really in his way to begin with. (But sometimes, those walls wouldn't be there. Walls crumble. Plans crumble. Everyone loses stamina on the way… it was just a perfect illustration of Riku's life.)

"I'm making a big breakfast today," Tiffany announced, seemingly out of the blue. Limp, limp, limp went Riku. He tilted his head, and almost bothered with an 'mmhm?', but decided against it.

"Roxas is coming home early, and I have the day off." Riku could hear the pleasant tones in her voice; she was smiling, and he could _hear_ that smile. His hand came to rest on the kitchen counter and he paused. It was small in here, too. Everything about this house was small, quaint, just enough for three people but no more than that. "I figured," she continued, nonplussed by the fact that her practically surrogate son didn't answer, "Why not make a big meal? Because, you know… I invited Sora, in case he wanted to come and eat, too."

Sora. The name brought a good and bad connotation to mind. Sora, the sky. Fly away, Sora. Fly, fly far away before the people of this town eat you up. Riku closed his pretty aqua eyes. They look like the shallows of island water, Riku, that dreadful man would say. They're beautiful, he'd continue. Shallow… if eyes were the windows to the soul, Riku was infinitely more shallow than anyone could have believed. Shallow, shallow beauty. It made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. He was so miserably, beautifully broken that at times he wasn't even sure how to function… how people _expected_ him to function. Nothing made sense.

"That's nice," Riku replied, but mostly he was just talking about the fan-created draft that blew across his face in an almost-not-quite cold gust. Despite being small, the kitchen seemed home to many appliances, and also doubled as a dining area. A single woman couldn't afford much… especially not a single woman with two boys to suddenly support. But Riku didn't care about niceties… it was just the little breeze that distracted him.

"Anything specific you boys might like? Oatmeal-"

Riku scoffed.

"Pancakes, waffles?" she continued.

Riku shuffled the rest of the way into the kitchen, placing his hands behind him on the dingy, off-white counter. "Pancakes," Riku said, almost with an air of indifference about him. With his muscled arms, he pulled himself up onto the counter and made a place for himself there. "Pancakes and waffles and…" he trailed off, a thought catching him off-guard.

xxx

"_Who spends their last day together at an IHOP? I mean… totally romantic, that." The blue eyed man sucked on one finger, removing the syrup from his hands one digit at a time. Riku stared at him, lost in a daze of suggestive behavior._

"_I think it's sexy," Riku said, nibbling on the edge of an unfinished lump of carbohydrates, sugar, and butter. "Way better than some contrived, walk-on-the-beach-at-sunset date."_

"_Hey," he tilted his head, and fixed his dark brown hair. Suck, suck, suck. He licked the fingers of his other hand. Riku thought he could hear him purring. "Are you making fun of the ideals of romanticism?"_

"_Yes, I believe I am."_

"_Now__** that's**__ sexy."_

_They laughed._

"_Damn, I wish I could stay forever."_

_xxx_

_Forever's a long long time_, Riku thought distractedly.

"And what?" Tiffany asked, crinkling her brow. Blue eyes, just like Roxas', looked ever so curious. Tiffany looked more like Roxas than Roxas' mom looked like Roxas. And Roxas looked nothing like his dad at all. Maybe it was just an illusion Tiffany cast… an illusion she maintained with her sandy blonde hair and her bright, bright blue eyes.

"And pancakes," Riku repeated, scrunching his brow as if to mimic Tiffany. He simply had lost his train of thought and was trying to chase it through a long series of beaten, broken tracks. It was long gone by now, but Riku… Riku Inoue was so damnably stubborn that there just was no stopping him once he started. And that… was just the first on the long list of 'Why Riku is a Walking Contradiction'. Tiffany reckoned it might make a New York Times bestseller. But didn't they simply print that on the cover of any crappy book someone published?

Tiffany straightened her posture and shook her head, deciding not to bother mentioning the fact that Riku had already listed pancakes as a prospective breakfast candidate. "Pancakes and waffles and… anything else?"

Riku seemed to be fixated with remembering the taste of syrup… and that warm, pink mouth that he barely even kissed. He'd been practically… well, to say it'd been… Riku remembered sheets and bodies. For the life of him, though, he could not remember those little sissy kisses. He could kiss his face, but not his mouth.

"Orange juice," Riku said plainly. His previous thoughts eluded him. The blue-eyed man could lick up his chest and suckle his most sensitive of places, but they could not properly, intimately kiss. It was all feather kisses-butterfly kisses. "Orange juice and muffins."

"Well, Mr. Inoue… nix the muffins and we'll have a perfect breakfast."

"I'll go get some muffins," Riku said, making a face and then fixing his silver hair. Ah, the fan felt glorious blowing this way and that. Riku was pretty sure that muffins would taste simply hideous with orange juice, but that didn't matter. It was like green eggs and ham-it didn't have to look good or sound good to taste great.

"Sure, send the cripple out to do my dirty work," Tiffany laughed, short and sweet. "Sorry, darling, but you're staying right here."

Riku blinked, pursing his lips. He felt like he should help, and maybe some part of him wanted to, but instead he just watched. He watched as Tiffany placed her hands into the cool sink water and washed them thoroughly. Scrub, scrub, scrub went the soap between her palms, sliding down her fingers… just to be rinsed away again. Whirrrr went the fan with its manmade breeze. Riku couldn't think of, at that very moment in time, anything better. But then again, Riku couldn't be troubled to think of many things, and maybe that made him just a little bit biased.

"You're a regular old Hitler, you know," Riku joked tiredly. His legs hung over the edge of the counter, feeling limp and heavy. He kicked them slightly, like a bored toddler kicks his legs in a doctor's chair, just to make sure they worked. And they worked, but they still felt dead and heavy. Dead and heavy like lead.

"I know, I'm so mean. Just dreadful. I'd make a wonderful Fuhrer, though. I'm German enough, I think." She laughed again and headed towards the refrigerator. He saw her pull out a carton of eggs. Had they agreed upon making eggs?

Riku laughed weakly. Maybe it was just the breeze that made him do so, though. Summer days made you lose your mind.

"When is Roxas coming?" _Coming_, Riku thought. Such a dirty word that always made him feel just that-dirty.

"Soon, I think. He'll call when he's on his way."

Kick, kick, kick went Riku's legs. Just like a little toddler-no, just like scared little Riku Inoue. Because, in the world's eyes, Riku was still just a fragile child. A fragile, broken child.

"Okay," Riku said. He wanted to help with breakfast but didn't.

xxx

It didn't take long for Riku's blond-haired best friend to contact him via telephone. Tiffany busied herself with whipping eggs and cooking bacon and using that skillet and that pan for this and that and the other thing, so Riku politely reached over and answered the phone with a simple, questioning hello. Hello? As if he were afraid of who would be on the other side of the phone. Hello? Like Tiffany didn't have caller id (which she did).

"Hey, I'm on my way out the door," Roxas informed him; it was surprisingly quiet but for his voice.

"Did you close up the shack?"

"Yeah," Roxas responded. Riku could hear shuffling in the background, an indication that he was still finishing with something. "Just for the afternoon… then the owner will come back and she'll take care of it for the day."

Meaningless conversation. Riku closed his eyes and let his head sink against a cabinet. The breakfast sizzled and crackled and popped, and still the silver-haired boy watched with indecision. They chatted, something Riku wasn't usually prone to do. They talked about smoothies and blenders and labels on the CD racks. Riku watched Tiffany; sometimes she'd look toward him, more like a brief sort of glance, and then she'd turn her attention to not burning their meal.

"Tiffany's making breakfast for us." Riku frowned, letting out a little 'ow', a bit of grease stinging his arm. "And it's trying to fight back, apparently."

Roxas laughed. "I've got Sora with me. Need me to pick up anything before we get there?"

Sora.

He redirected Roxas' question to Tiffany, with which she simply responded, "I'm good, thanks." If this were some sort of comedy, Riku imagined she'd say something like, 'perhaps another pair of hands would be nice-about how much would you say they cost?' But they were just mundane people living in this stupid town making breakfast and talking over the phone. So she simply said, I'm good. And that was the end of it.

"Nothing we need." Pause. "Oh, muffins."

"What kind?"

Riku shifted. "Any kind. Wait, no… blueberry."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"We'll be there in a couple."

"Okay."

Click.

"They'll be here soon," Riku repeated to Tiffany. She nodded.

xxx

Clink, clink, clink went the dishes. It was more like a late brunch by the time Roxas poked his head full of blond spikes in the door, carrying a little crinkling grocery bag full of muffins. It was far too hot for this sort of breakfast, Riku had decided, but kept to himself. As long as it tasted good, it'd be easy to forget about the heat. They had the industrial fan working now-wasn't that enough?

Sora scuttled in after Roxas, yet another plastic bag dangling from his dainty, tanned wrist. He came bearing a smile that most people would say was 'brighter than sunshine'. But sunshine was at times unbearable and made Riku want to squint away, seeking cover in the shade. Sora's smile wasn't bright-it was just warm, simple, inviting. Like the only baggage weighing on him was that little, hanging grocery bag.

Riku sucked in a slow breath, listening to the clink of plates and the click of the closing door behind Sora. He'd slid from the counter, finally, and shuffled toward the table in the middle of the room. He reached out for one of the little wooden chairs, eyeing the simple, barren, polished table. A circular setup, just enough for the four of them. Tiffany had the money to fix up her house, but only because it was small, and because she'd sold many of her things. This little table was part of her old things, and it didn't bother Riku. He didn't like change.

"Sorry about the wait," Roxas said, a sigh of relief in his voice as he set his bag down on the counter, "There was a long line."

Sora appeared in the kitchen, too, right beside Roxas, and set the rest of the groceries on the counter. "We got napkins, too, and stuff like that. The muffins were on sale, so Roxy and I just opted to buy two packages."

Roxy. Riku glanced almost defensively at Sora, almost bristling. _Almost_, not quite. Roxy was _Riku_'s nickname for Roxas. Roxas had been _Riku_'s friend first. Possessive aqua eyes settled on Roxas, a stubborn unwillingness to share welling in his stomach. Why? Why did he have to be so damn… _clingy_?

"Smells great," Roxas added, pulling out a chair for Riku to sit in and then snatching several items from the grocery bags, unpacking them.

Tiffany looked over her shoulder with a slight smile. For a moment the clanking of silverware and dishes stopped. Then, without missing a beat, she carried two plates full of food to the table. "It is great," she commented with a little laugh. "Sit, sit. All of you just sit down," she commanded in an all too motherly tone for a woman of her age. "Thanks for picking up the muffins-Riku would have died without them."

"I don't doubt it," Roxas grinned. His hands stopped fumbling with the plastic and, as ordered, he sat down and motioned for Sora to do the same. The food set in front of them made Riku's eyes water; steam curled up in wispy tendrils, looking like ghosts on an otherwise pleasant afternoon.

_Great metaphor,__ Riku,_ he thought. _No, idiot… that was a simile. Comparing your food to some sort of horror movie. Or comedy-horror, like Ghostbusters, or Casper or…_

"Ha, you two are regular class-clowns," Riku forced the words from his mouth, distracted by completely mundane thoughts. About what he might do tomorrow. About how restless he was feeling… how restless the summer made him. Having nothing to do seemed to make his mind rot and fizzle and dissolve slowly… and he couldn't even call it anxiety. Boredom, no… it was like sitting in front of the television just wasn't _enough_ for him anymore. He wanted to do something, but at the same time he didn't want to _work_.

Sora's blue eyes observed Riku as if a deer tentatively observing a harmless, food-bearing human. His smile had disappeared, though he just had a pleasant, natural glow about him. He didn't have to talk to seem interesting, and… Riku wanted to like him, but didn't want to feel as if Sora were taking his best friend away.

Tiffany set out the napkins, laid out the silverware, placed all the food (pancakes, eggs, bacon, waffles, and muffins included) on the table, and filled their glasses with orange juice. All in all, it was… massive. Things were piled on top of each other and almost falling off the plate, and despite looking delicious, it also looked rather… ridiculous. At least his breakfast didn't smile at him; Sora's shirt smiled at him and that was plenty of artificial happiness for Riku.

They were all sitting at the table now; the irony of 'breakfast at Tiffany's' had gone over their heads (or perhaps under the table), unnoticed and un-laughed at. So many times had they sat at this same table, eating breakfast after breakfast, and still the pun had never been so much as mentioned. Riku idly cut into his stack of pancakes with the side of his fork, eyes swooping over the table and quickly taking in the forms of Tiffany, Roxas, and Sora. Everything with him… with them, with this house… it was all stuck on an endless cycle, a loop-de-loop that had begun to grow just a little too monotonous. Was it having nothing to do that made Riku feel restless?

"Mmm, being late has its perks," Roxas said, mouth full of breakfast foods. "Like having the food all ready."

"Ew, Roxas, swallow before speaking," Tiffany chided.

Sora laughed. "It's all delicious, thanks."

Riku nodded and pushed around some bacon, contemplating eating it. Mostly he was looking at Sora, who reminded him of a past that he just didn't want to go. Because he… **Leon **was all he had. Yeah, he said it. Leon, Leon, _Leon_. The man that smelled of strawberries… like nice shampoo and the salty ocean breeze. But now… now it was all gone, gone, gone, like water down the shower drain.

"Thanks," Riku added, sounding rather lackadaisical.

"I'm glad you like it." Tiffany smiled a little smile; she looked like she wanted to say more, but ended up simply opening the muffins and passing them around the small table. "How's the shack doing?" ah, blessed afterthoughts and simple small talk.

"Good," Sora replied (perhaps it should be noted that he rather politely spoke after chewing). "We only had one smoothie disaster today." His grin was boyish, sheepish, silly.

"A new record," Roxas pointed out, swallowing and then taking another hearty mouthful of pancakes.

Tiffany laughed and shook her head, making a sort of 'pffft' noise. "You two are something else, you know. It's a wonder people seem to frequent that place with you two goons running around."

"I resent that statement," Roxas 'pouted', but the expression was more or less ruined by the fact that he licked the syrup from his pretty pink mouth soon afterwards.

"I support that statement," Riku cut in.

"You're so mean, Ri-Ri." Roxas made a face. Tiffany laughed again.

"That's 'cause you just beg for abuse," Sora said lowly, giving a slight snicker.

"_Hey, _So_ra_! Don't side with him, too!" Roxas gently punched the brunette in the arm, giving a mock-scowl.

"Now boys, play nice," Tiffany jested lightly.

"He started it." Roxas pointed at Riku.

Riku narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows, tossing his silver hair carelessly to one side. The fan blew from one side to the other, fiddling with the long locks. "Oh yeah, and I'll finish it too, disease-boy."

"At least I'm not afraid I'm gonna melt," Roxas shot back at him, standing up slightly before deciding against it, giving a slight chuckle and seating himself once again.

"I wasn't aware you two were married," Tiffany said, trying to keep a straight face (because, understandably, she wasn't very witty on many occasions). Sora only grinned, stabbing an egg and grabbing a napkin.

"No, Riku is my _Grinchy_ ex-wife," Roxas rolled his eyes, picking up a muffin, peeling it's plastic wrapper off, and nibbling on it. A glance at Riku, though, and he paused in his marathon of teasing. "Hey, you gonna eat, Ri?"

"Yeah," Riku nodded, glance straying from Sora and down to his food (which he still seemed to be subconsciously pushing around).

"If you're not hungry now I could put it in the fridge for later," Tiffany offered.

Riku contemplated this, closing his eyes a moment. When he opened them, his eyes seemed just as lackluster as they had the instant before he had closed them.

"Mmm, sure, yeah. I'll just have my muffin."

"It has to cool first, but I'll take care of it."

Riku nodded again. "Thanks."

There seemed a very awkward lull in the conversation from that point on. Riku listened to the scraping of silverware against plates, could hear every little chewing noise, and sighed. Muffins and orange juice really _didn't_ taste well together, as he'd figured they wouldn't. Still, he downed the juice as if it were vodka and then picked at the bready, bald cupcake. Riku liked his carbs.

"What do you think about seeing a movie?" Roxas asked, clearing the rest of the food off his plate and chewing thoughtfully. Tiffany stood slowly, having already finished eating, and busied herself looking for some sort of Saran-Wrap.

"I think I'd like that-what were you thinking about seeing? Would all four of us go?"

"Mm, I don't know," Roxas answered after his final swallow, looking to Sora and then to Riku. "Depends on what everyone else feels like."

"I don't feel like going, really," Riku responded with a shrug. "You guys can go, though. You should go."

"Someone has to be here to watch-"

"Oh, right."

"Why, exactly?" Sora asked, finally having finished his meal.

"Not important," Roxas replied.

"I could stay, if you wanted. Watch the house. You and Tiffany could go and watch a movie or whatever."

"Ha," Roxas gave a short laugh, snorting. "Riku might kill you."

Tiffany seemed to echo Roxas' thoughts.

"I'm not that unpleasant," Riku mumbled moodily. Sora just grinned.

"Yeah, me 'n Eeyore here will make a perfect team. You two, go. It's not like you guys haven't done me more than a dozen favors-I practically owe you my firstborn."

"Well," Tiffany began, somewhat hesitantly.

"Go, now, or forever hold your peace. Or whatever."

Tiffany paused. Roxas opened his mouth to say something. Sora would hear nothing of it.

Eventually, saying he'd take care of things and clean up everything, he pushed Roxas and Tiffany out the door. Was he eager to spend time with Riku? One couldn't tell.

Nonetheless, distractions were gone. It was just Riku and the blue-eyed boy who reminded him of his past.

xxx

Sora didn't make awkward small talk like Riku expected him to. Everyone did it-just to fill up the silence they'd think of stupid things to say. Some people mentioned the weather, others sports, and others pop culture. Sora… Sora just took care of the food on the table, like he said he would, and cleaned the dishes that were left empty (except for Riku's, which he placed in the fridge without so much as a second thought).

Riku had long since retreated to the couch, having nothing particularly interesting to say, either. He wanted to tell Sora he had Leon's eyes, and that he had brown hair like George's fur. And that he reminded him of carnivals. Instead, though… instead he shuffled over to the couch and out of boredom played with the cushions, tracing patterns into the fabric with his pale fingers. He just didn't feel like television… he just didn't feel like anything. Summer made him so, so terribly restless.

Sora had a terrible, funny habit of humming. Maybe it came along with the fact that he worked in a store that had music playing all the time, but… it was different. The tune that drifted from his lips in a lazy sort of song seemed gentler than the blaring noise at the shack. Riku didn't bother to inquire as to the song's title, but rather simply enjoyed the wordless melody. It made him pause, hold his breath almost, and then… sigh. Just sigh, softly and slowly. Riku could observe his backside, but the shorts really did his ass no justice, and he didn't care too much to stare at his back and the blinding yellow t-shirt. Maybe blinding was exaggerating a little.

Clink, clink, clink went the dishes, one after the other, as Sora stacked them in a perfectly clean row. And when he finished, he just stopped humming entirely, and turned to trot over to the couch. Man, the world was weird. Or was it just Riku that had a skewed perspective? Maybe _he_ was the weird one. Hell, the whole world was weird.

"How come you gotta be watched?" Sora asked, simply and without beating around the bush, flopping down on the couch (leaving a cushion between himself and Riku). His dialect was somewhat… well, Riku found it boyish, young.

Riku raised one slender eyebrow, drawing his knees to his chest. He rested his forearms on said knees, looking rather impassive. A staring contest where you're allowed to blink. "I fell off a roof, and everyone's all freaked out like I'll do it again."

"If you could even make it up there with your legs."

"They don't really like to listen to reason."

"Why were you up there in the first place?"

"Thinking."

"Oh." How plain.

"Were you expecting a more fanciful answer?"

"Maybe. Yeah. Sorry, Eeyore."

"I was chasing purple elephants, Tigger."

"Perhaps you mean Heffalumps."

Riku almost smiled. He laid his chin on his arms, letting bone dig into bone.

"Perhaps I do."

Riku closed his eyes. Sora observed Riku wordlessly. The silence hung over them like a thick, damp curtain. And Sora was humming again, the harmony eventually developing words. And he was singing about the rain. The rain that Riku believed would never come. They'd all choke in the high temperature first, or die of heatstroke. Weren't those the same thing?

Silence. Silence again.

More silence.

Then a phrase about sleeping.

Then he just stopped.

"Why'd you want to stay here?"

"Because they needed a break."

"A break?"

"Yeah."

"Wonder what they're watching."

"A movie, prob'ly." Sora mused playfully.

"Want to watch television?" Riku asked plainly. He didn't want to.

"Sure." Sora didn't want to either.

Riku turned on the TV anyways, and for a while they watched it. Riku was thinking of the rain, because it was raining on the show they happened to be watching. And Riku was wondering how the air conditioning in the movie theater felt, and what movie Tiffany and Roxas went to see, and whether or not they got snacks, and if they liked it or not, and…

"Do you like pets?"

Riku blinked; he wasn't really looking at the television, so he decided to focus on Sora instead. Was this stupid small talk or significant small talk? Was small talk ever significant?

"Mine always die."

"Oh… sorry, I…"

"It's fine."

Their conversation sort of ended there. It fizzled out, much like a soda that loses its carbonation, and Riku didn't particularly seem to mind.

They watched things… stupid things, like trivia shows and dramas and finally settled on the Digimon movie. And there was a girl named Sora there, too.

By the end of the movie, too, they were both sick with the heat and nearly dozing off. Sora was thinking pleasant thoughts (or at least trying to) and wondering why people didn't associate with Riku. He liked Riku. He liked watching stupid things with him, he decided. They sort of ended up curled next to each other, but only because Sora had moved and retrieved the fan, relocating it to this room, and… they both wanted to make the most out of the breeze.

Nonetheless, when Roxas and Tiffany came back, looking exhausted (why did everyone always look exhausted after sitting on their ass and being mindlessly entertained?) and ready for a nap, their position caused a few blonde eyebrows to raise.

"Have fun?" Sora lazily asked over his shoulder, leaning against a half-asleep Riku. Credits were rolling down the screen and the silver-haired teen seemed content to watch them stream down like some sort of river.

"Bunches," Roxas said, closing the door with his foot. Tiffany's keys jangled in her hand. "Movie was good. It was nice; we sat up front."

"Yeah; Roxas wanted to watch some blood fest, but… in the end, comedy won over."

"She threatened to beat me."

"Scaary, Roxy," Sora laughed. "Afraid of a girl, are we?"

"Just a little," he responded with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I can be quite convincing." Tiffany cracked her knuckles and grinned. Roxas grinned back.

"Looks like you held up the fort pretty well," Roxas commented idly.

"Yeah, we were quite boring together."

"We were fine," Riku mumbled tiredly.

"I ought to go home and feed my cat, though," Sora said, stretched his arms, and yawned.

"I think we can handle it from here," Tiffany said softly. "Thanks for taking care of things, though. It really was nice to relax."

Riku wasn't sure whether or not to feel hurt by that statement. He settled for just feeling somewhat inexpressive and rather sleepy (and hot to a sickening degree).

"It's no problem," Sora waved his hand. He slowly pushed himself off the couch, standing tiredly. "Call me anytime."

"We will, no worries."

Roxas and Tiffany said their goodbyes to Sora; Riku saw that they hugged and exchanged little last minute conversations, tidbits of information, and finally managed to get the brunette out the door. But not before Sora waved to Riku.

"Bye, Eeyore."

"Seeya, Tigger."

Sora closed the door and then was gone.

Riku wanted to sleep again. He wanted to sleep forever, because Sora was just Leon all over again.

* * *

**Author's note:** So, end of chapter two. Hooray. I always want to talk about this story and explain what it means to me and its ultimately greater depth, but… really, I hope it just speaks for itself. I hope it's clear, to the point, and all that jazz. I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know if I'm not explaining something thoroughly enough, too, if you have the time.

Also… I seem to write these chapters so late at night. Like, stay-up-all-night-writing-them staying up. The slight (eheh, is that an understatement?) rambling can be observed from writing with not enough sleep and very bloodshot eyes. Hope you still enjoyed anyway, and I hope it wouldn't trouble you too much to leave a review.


	3. Panda

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts or anything else mentioned in this fic (besides Tiffany, I suppose). If I did… well, I'd have millions of dollars. But since I _don't_, I just have to sit here and write about something that's made someone _else_ millions of dollars. Pretty lame, eh?

**Author's note: **I'm trying to make my chapters longer (keyword being 'trying'), so if I'm a little bit slower in my updating, that might be why. This update was a little delayed because of sickness, school, and Anime Boston, (and sickness again!) so… my apologies. A weird thing is happening with my formatting where it won't accept my scene break characters, so I'm just using x's now.

And oh, thanks for the support, as always. Your reviews make me elated. (And to those that don't review, the favorites, alerts, and C2s are much appreciated.) Thanks thanks thanks. I less than three you. (haha, heart.)

* * *

**Black Orchid**

'Panda'

Riku's first thought as he woke up was _where is my brother?_ And then he faltered a little as the scene of Tiffany's living room assaulted his eyes, shedding light on his delirious mind. Riku could not be classified as a morning person, but… as he threw the sheets and cotton blanket off his pale form, he was in his right mind enough to know that his brother was not _here_ anymore. Dreams could play the cruelest of tricks on you, even in their warped, twisted ways.

_I had a dream you were a mouse and I was Godzilla_, Riku thought in somewhat of a daze. At the time, he was walking (except he wasn't, because Riku didn't walk… but perhaps that had already been long-since established) towards the fridge, slumber still clinging to the recesses of his mind. He wanted orange juice. _And of course we hated each other, but… when your house crumbled down you slept for days and days, and then you just wouldn't wake up anymore._

Riku paused, fingers wrapped around the fridge's long, plastic door-handle. It was black in contrast to the fridge's white. Juliet always wanted stainless steel everything, but Riku hated the idea. Lately, Riku found himself hating most of his remembrance of the place he'd called home. Sometimes he took the time to play out conversations in his head, though most of them went badly.

I… wanted to call and see if Simon was okay, Riku thought he'd say. He wanted his mother (because that's who he imagined picking up the phone, since everyone knew his father was phone-retarded) to respond with, He asks about you every day. But that was just stupid and ridiculous. What his mother would really say was, He's fine. Then she'd add, thanks for calling. She'd consider asking how he was, Riku thought, but then she'd remember how hurt she felt and she'd just hang up. But maybe they could exchange two forced I love you's before the phone call ended. Maybe.

Around the middle of the day, Riku actually found himself perched on the counter again, little black phone resting in his hand. He slid his thumb over the raised buttons for the digits, dialing the number to his house in his head. He could hear the dial tone, knew how the ringer would resonate off the walls of Juliet's house, remembered the sound of his mother's voice. He inhaled and exhaled, breathing. Sometimes he wished Juliet would call, so he would be forced to answer. Sometimes he wished Leon would call, so he could say I love you again. Leon would never love him again.

Ring, ring, ring! The jangle surprised the silver-haired boy so greatly that he nearly dropped the phone on the floor. It did, however, slip out of his hand and land into his lap, sliding down his legs and toward its tiled-floor doom. Snatch went Riku's hand, reflexes still quick enough to catch it before it clattered against the flooring, and without looking at the caller id simply jammed his thumb into the 'talk' button. Tiffany was napping, and Riku, despite everything else he seemed to be, was certainly not inconsiderate. His voice was low, scratchy.

"Hello?" It was always an inquiry.

"Riku," the voice breathed, almost at a pant. Riku could hear the grin in the speaker's voice, recognized it as something characteristic of someone he knew. He paused.

Silence.

Riku figured the familiar voice wanted a response.

"Yes?"

He could still hear the sound of faint breathing on the other end.

"D'you mind if I come over for a little?" That voice… Riku pinned it as belonging to a certain brunette by the name of Sora.

"I, uh… why? Tiffany's sleeping and stuff. Where's Roxas… aren't you two supposed to be working?" Riku's voice, uncharacteristically quiet out of courtesy for his sleeping companion, still seemed a little raspy.

"Oh, well…"

Riku clutched the phone to his ear, looking down to his bare feet.

"Me 'n Roxas wanted to show you something, but… Roxy can't leave his post, and Naminé's covering for me, so… we figured I could just… come and see you." Was that… nervousness in his voice? His smooth, honey and mud voice.

"Mm… like I said, Tiffany's trying to sleep, so I don't really-"

"I'll be quiet," Sora added hastily. Riku heard a little noise in the background. "In fact, see… I don't even need to talk."

Riku contemplated the idea, sighing oh so slowly. "Sora?"

"What?"

"You better be quiet."

"I can come over?"

"Yeah… just be quiet."

"I'll be over in a little, thanks." He sounded ecstatic, though he tried to mask it with a hint of casualness.

"Sure."

They both said goodbye and Riku slid from the counter onto his own two feet again, ending the short call with the click of a button. It'd been a week since they'd laid together, watching that silly movie and being cooked by the afternoon sun. Riku had a mind to laugh about it. Did he like Sora, or did he just like the simplicity, the fact that he wasn't being questioned and poked and prodded? Did he like Sora, or did he just like not being alone?

Riku staggered from the kitchen to the living room and to the back door, hands reaching out occasionally for an object or two. Reach, reach, reach… would he always need an object to stabilize him? You're so co-dependent, Riku. You're always bored or moping without some sort of company. You could never live alone, anyway. That's what so-called friends would say, would tell him plainly. And then he'd reassure them that he'd be fine on his own, and that he'd bet on it, and if ever he went back to that town out of homesickness he'd owe them each a significant sum of money. It'd been a year, and maybe they'd already forgotten. Riku still had a stupid postcard Pence sent him from last month. He was visiting in London and the postcard had a little picture of a bridge on it. The message was brief, short, sweet.

_I like London, it's nothing like the place we grew up. My sister's fallen in love with nearly every man with an English accent. Go figure._

_I'm thinking about you, man. I miss Roxas, too. None of that Brokeback shit, though._

_-Pence_

Riku had read it and smiled tightly, tracing his fingers over the large, scribbly text. Pence always wrote like some silly fifth-grader and Riku had constantly teased him about it. He had a certain fondness for that familiar scrawl, though. It reminded him of better summer days where all of his friends would sit out on the hot porch licking melting popsicles, tossing gooseberries and squishing them under their feet, waiting for their food to be grilled.

Still with bare feet, Riku headed out the door. He was careful, oh so careful, to close it quietly so it wouldn't wake Tiffany, and as a reward seemed to be greeted with a refreshing sort of breeze. For once this summer... he actually didn't feel as if he were being slowly baked to death (and with not a tan in sight to show for it). His fingers lingered on the door, and with slow steps he walked to the steps of the porch. Sora didn't have to come inside. Riku could and _would_ be polite, letting Roxas' aunt to sleep as long as was necessary. It amused him, though… there had to be someone there to watch him, but Tiffany had fallen asleep. Sleeping on the job. Just last week they'd left him alone… they had expected him to go to the shack, and like a dutiful little boy should, he complied. He didn't even know why he did it, either. Habit came to mind. Sheer, forced habit.

The porch furniture had been neglected. Usually it was too bright, too hot, too sunny, too… something to sit outside, but with the whispering breezes being outdoors sort of felt all right. Just all right, though… nothing to write home about. Which is why he didn't-write, that was. What was there to say? Would he lie… would he tell the truth? Riku couldn't get past whom to address it to, and thus never bothered to write anything at all.

The warm air felt heavy on his skin, as if nature had taken it upon itself to start sweating on the young boy. Ha, to be young… to be so very, very young that you just start getting _tired_ from an earlier age, and getting old isn't really getting old anymore. Riku blurred the line (like with his almost-not-quite disability). _Everyone just gets old and boring, sometime… we die, but before that we get boring. My hair's already silver-I'm already boring… am I "old"? What is old, anyway?_

xxx

"_Riku… the thing I'll miss most about you is… how sweet you are."_

_Juliet would've disagreed. Riku didn't think about that, though. He didn't know what to think, so he cried. Tears stung his cheeks, webbing the whites of his eyes with streaks of red. What a girl, he would have normally thought, but…_

"_Okay," Riku said, just to fill up empty, silent space-just to show he'd been listening. "I'm sorry," he added, unsure of what it was he'd done._

"_Don't be. I… I feel like such an ass for… you know, but I... this whole situation just makes me so frustrated." Leon's lazy voice sounded strained, tired. Riku's aqua eyes sought no comfort from the deep blue oceans that looked back at him. _I'll be the ocean to your shore_, Riku was thinking, just because it'd been lingering in the back of his mind._

_Riku nodded._

"_It's not your fault, I…"_

"_I understand." Riku swallowed thickly. He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand. "I still think you're the most special person in the world."_

"_No, Riku… no, no, no… I'm not special. I'm just… Leon. Just plain old Leon."_

"_Not to me. Not to __**me, **__Leon. You're just… everything. You're funny, smart… you always have things to say and… I… think you're an amazing person, and… and yeah…"_

"_Heh, I'm glad at least somebody thinks so." Leon played with his lovely, silky silver hair. A time where Riku took utmost care of it, because Leon liked it long and beautiful._

_Riku rubbed his eyes, wiping his tears away with his shirtsleeve. He bit his lip, visibly shaking. "I'll miss you." It wasn't romantic, not like on television. Tears made his pretty, porcelain face ugly and splotchy, his nose dripping clear liquid that he constantly wiped away. His eyes had been highlighted with a swollen shade of pink. He shook like a leaf, terribly unattractive, on the verge of sobbing at any moment. It was unsightly._

"_You're a sweet, sweet boy, you know." Leon wiped away his tears._

"_Yeah," Riku sort of croaked, for lack of something better to say. _

"_I'll miss you too."_

xxx

Humid was the word he was looking for, just like slobber on an otherwise pleasant afternoon. He hoped it rained. He hoped it just poured and poured, because humidity meant moisture in the air. Moisture… would it be the end of their dry spell? The heat still messed with his brain… he still wanted to melt, just like a popsicle. Just like…

The porch was simple, only a little chair and a stool set out on its dyed red wood. Riku looked about to doze off, too, even with the sound of shuffling feet approaching. The sunlight wasn't too bad, too bright. It didn't get in Riku's eyes, at least, and with no overhead shade to protect him he was, to say, grateful. Shade… back to back like the shuffling feet weaving in and out of the cover of trees… feet that sounded like papers being ruffled; no clear, solid sound of footsteps to be heard. Riku remembered being snapped at to pick up his damned feet already, and that he wasn't a broom. Now it almost made him laugh, but instead he ended up sort of wrinkling his face and then running a hand through his hair. He proceeded to make a place for himself on the aforementioned little chair.

Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle. Riku watched a girl walk by, her attire altogether too… heavy for this weather. He paused, giving it a moment of thought, and then skipped over the subject. Maybe she was trying to be… fashionable? Not everyone had been beaten and broken from an early age, after all. _Mind in a better place, Riku… mind in a better place…_

The wind felt pleasing, kissing his skin with only a vague hint of bitterness. It was… refreshing. But… was weather really a better place for his mind? Had that been the happiest subject he could conjure? He tried to stop thinking entirely.

It didn't work.

Five minutes passed.

Riku squinted, starting to feel as if about to break into a heavy sweat.

Five more minutes went by.

Riku could hear the gentle _whoosh_ of the bus just a couple blocks away, releasing air as if sighing a weighted sigh. Riku threaded his fingers together, watching… waiting? He didn't feel as if he were waiting for anything, even though Sora and Roxas had apparently went through some amount of trouble just so Riku could see… something. He furrowed his brow, distracted, wondering what it was that was so important that they couldn't have waited a couple more hours. Maybe it was a life's supply of ice cream. Riku hoped not-he could only take so much of the stuff before retching. His stomach, empty save for orange juice, still felt like a brick that weighed him down. Maybe it was… crutches. Some surprise that would be.

Brown spikes came into view, accompanying the sound of hurried feet. Strange, though… he'd hurry and then slow down, as if fighting excitement and worry at the same time and not being able to decide which emotion was going to win. His footsteps quickened then slowed, and Riku could see as the tanned figure rounded the corner and came into complete view, he was doing a very poor job of hiding something (and that was being nice about it). Tucked into his mint green shirt (after a long discussion with Roxas and the philosophy of smiley-faces and their effect on Roxas' silver-haired best friend, Sora decided to change out of his work clothes before coming to the house) was a very… conspicuous blob. Riku wondered what could be shaped that oddly… and it wasn't moving, save for a gentle bounce with every step Sora took.

Sickness tugged at Riku's stomach, the humidity overcoming him. Or maybe it was anxiety, anticipation… dread? The remembrance of Leon.

Sora approached (still with his goofy shoes, even if he'd lost his annoying attire), one bouncy step at a time. He seemed to cradle his chest, protecting whatever was in his shirt.

Riku thought to wave but didn't. Sora didn't wave because he had his hands full. Riku waited for him to walk within hearing distance and gave a thoughtful frown.

"So… let me guess. Your surprise is plastic surgery? You got a boob job and it went horribly wrong?" Riku rested his chin on his knuckles, elbows digging into his thighs. This chair was comfortable enough for only being covered with a small pillow and being made out of wicker.

"Ha ha, so hilarious." Sora couldn't help grinning, though. To be cliché (which Riku was already very sure he was), his smile looked like it would fall off his face at any second. Or maybe it'd stick there. Or maybe when it hit the ground it'd shatter into a million pieces.

The wind blew, gentle reminders of better days. He wanted to get sick. Riku noticed that Sora was trying to whisper. He was standing there, blocking the sun, chest gently fluttering, arms wrapped around his 'surprise'.

"Guess again, Sherlock Holmes," Sora jested.

"I hate guessing games," Riku mumbled.

Pause.

"Me too," Sora agreed.

The corners of Riku's lips turned up slightly.

Meow, another party offered its input.

Wait. What?

"Did your chest… just meow at me?" Riku inquired, though it'd been a rhetorical question. Surprise ruined, essentially.

"Why yes," Sora mused oh-so-softly. "I've talked to my doctor about it, but it just won't seem to stop. I hope you'll forgive me for my strange deformity."

Riku laughed. Sora stood there, almost shocked. He blinked, trying to register what had happened, and took a moment to recollect his thoughts. _I made him laugh_, he was thinking, and it was written all over his pretty little face.

"Right. I'm mad at you, though," Riku announced sternly, looking away. His stomach gurgled. He didn't want to wake Tiffany.

Sora blinked again. Mad? He scrunched up his face, looking disappointed. Riku could hear him breathing; it was a pleasant sound… just like Niagara Falls. Riku wanted to ask him if he knew what Niagara Falls sounded like.

"Why?"

Why. It was time for Sora to ask the question. Maybe he didn't like him as much as he thought.

Meow, went the bundle inside Sora's shirt.

"Never mind," Riku murmured, and found himself staring at Sora's chest. The brunette took this as a physical cue, lifting the ball of fur out from his clothing.

Sora felt awkward. He wanted to make a joke about hairy chests in honor of the little cat now resting in his tanned hands, but didn't.

"Is he yours?"

Sora shook his head.

Sigh. Riku shook his head slowly, observing the tiny little kitten. Blue eyes, dark and almost gloomy for such a cute thing. And he was ugly… a Persian with a flat face… and he was beautiful. And he was black and he was white… but mostly just white with black patches on his body and around his eyes. He (Riku assigned 'he' to all animals automatically, unless told otherwise) made Riku want to cry.

"Roxas said…" And Sora said something (or a series of somethings), but Riku wasn't really listening; he didn't want to hear what Roxas had to say redirected at him through Sora and with Sora's pretty voice. Sora with the lovely, oceanic stare. Oceanic and not shallow. Sora had been trying to be sweet. Sweet as sugar in tea.

Breaking off Sora's chain of thought, Riku stood. Riku stood and he said, "I'm mad 'cause…" He sighed again, deep and heavy. Sora stood on the porch looking almost… contrite? And they were looking into each other's eyes. And then Riku reached down for the kitten.

Sora handed him over.

"I'm mad because I want to keep him." Riku stroked his furry little head, and afterwards, holding him, made note of a deformity. Only three legs.

"Well, I… I mean… you can. Didn't you hear me? I said Roxas has everything figured out, and that it would be a good idea for you to have something to do, and…"

Riku listened but seemed busy petting this cute, furry little 'gift'. But was it a gift or a burden, really?

"And nobody wanted him, hm? Too much work, special attention…"

"Well, yeah… and we weren't just going to leave him there." Sora frowned, and looking up at the brunette, Riku frowned too. It just didn't look…

The kitten purred.

Riku thought about mentioning the fact that he'd told Sora, only a week before, that his pets had all died prematurely. He didn't, though, because Sora's sort of sadness was… draining. Instead Riku said, "His name's Panda."

That made Sora smile again. Riku nuzzled Panda's head in thought, but partly for comfort's sake.

"You'll keep him, then?"

"For now," he nodded.

Sora seemed comforted by his response, too. Maybe, somewhere in his heart, he hoped this animal could help the silver-haired boy to focus on something else. Maybe it'd give him a chance to check up on him.

"I should… be going back to work now, then."

"You're going to leave me all alone with a handicapped animal?" Riku's eyebrow quirked. He still felt a faint twinge of something flu-like bite at his stomach.

"You said Tiffany was sleeping, so…"

"Get your ass inside." Riku turned, almost snorting. "And let's watch a movie."

xxx

"So what's the deal with that Inoue kid the kitten's going to? A friend of yours, right?" Her speech was slow, easy. One of the regulars at the shack, her blood red locks and blue eyes her most distinguishing features.

"His name's Riku, and yeah… we go way back. Why?" Roxas busied himself chopping fruit, barely looking up into her gaze (lest he look away from his cutting board for only a moment and chop something he hadn't intended to).

"He's kinda cute," she commented idly.

"Kairi… you are so badly on the rebound I can't even take you seriously." Chop, chop, chop. "And besides, he's not your type."

"Pffft," the girl blew a raspberry at him. "Why, 'cause you want him to be your type?" She stuck out her tongue and pulled one eyelid down at him.

"That was uncalled for," Roxas shot at her, almost in a whine.

"I'm totally kidding, baby doll. 'Sides, everyone knows you have the hots for Naaammiii, anyway."

Roxas spluttered. "Now _that_ was really uncalled for."

"But it's so true, you know! She can't hear me, anyway. She's cleaning the back room."

"Still not fair," Roxas muttered. Chop, chop, slice. Roxas pushed the kiwis into a little bowl full of fruit.

"I wonder if So-ra will charm this friend of yours."

"Hnn," Roxas said, mostly just to respond when he had nothing to say. But it was a rather protective 'hnn'.

"He'll bring some cheer into his life, maybe. Silver-hair boy's so quiet."

"You've only ever looked at him...once? Not like you said 'hi' first."

"You've got a point there, kiddo." She paused, thinking. "But, you know… my point still stands. Cheer, brightness, you know? Just inject it right into his veins."

"Ha," Roxas said. "Good luck with that."

Pause. Kairi smiled.

"I have to get back to running this place, though. I'll talk to you later."

"Sure," Kairi said somewhat plainly, though with a smile in her voice. "Still waitin' on that smoothie."

"Right, just a minute."

"Park tomorrow, right?"

"Yep, I'll talk to you in a sec."

xxx

Once inside, the door shut behind Sora, neither of them spoke. Riku carried Panda to the couch, set him down in his lap, and watched him intently. Panda no longer meowed or mewled because everything was… silent. Riku could hear the faint, carried sound of Tiffany's snoring, however, and Sora's slow breathing pattern. Panda curled up in himself, sleepy. Maybe the heat even made pets tired.

Sora and Riku lounged about on the couch; even though Riku mentioned wanting to watch a movie, he didn't reach for the remote. The two of them sat fiddling with the kitten for somewhere around half an hour, not saying a word, before the sound of footsteps approaching stilled them.

Tiffany's scratchy, croaking morning voice greeted them (despite it not being morning). They greeted her back, Riku's hello somewhat distracted.

"I thought you'd be working, Sora." By now she'd padded to the living room, tanned hands resting on the back of the couch, looking down at the two boys.

"I was… and then I wasn't, 'cause my friend filled in for me… I was supposed to go back, but Riku wanted me to stay inside."

Tiffany paused and quirked an eyebrow. Had Riku made some sort of friend? She looked down into Riku's lap, noting a furry presence, and smiled a little tiredly.

"I see you're getting along quite nicely."

Riku looked up, blinking slowly. "Was this your idea, then?"

Sora didn't say anything.

"Sort of," she sounded almost sheepish. "You two are perfect for each other; I thought that it'd give you something to do… and I know how badly you missed Oreo."

"You read my letters?"

"Roxas told me."

Sora fixed his gaze to Tiffany, not knowing what to say or do.

"Oh," Riku said. He resorted to scratching Panda gently behind the ears. He looked back to Sora.

"Do you really have to go?"

Sora tilted his head, seeming to be mulling over an answer in his head.

"No," he said, even though it wasn't true.

"I could call my darling nephew and inform him you're staying here, if you want."

"I… uh, sure, that'd be great." Sora ran a hand through his brown hair, almost laughing. But it was a sort of nervous almost laugh.

"I'll protect you."

Sora blinked. "What?"

"If Roxy tries to kill you, I mean."

Tiffany grinned, seeming pleased with herself. "There will be no murders under my roof. I'll make the call now."

Sora laughed.

"You're a real jokester, Eeyore, you know?"

Riku shifted a little, though not so much as to wake the sleeping animal resting on his lap. "So I've been told," he replied dryly.

"How'd someone like you end up in Nowhere-ville, anyway?" Sora tilted his head. Riku listened to the sound of Tiffany's footsteps trailing into the kitchen.

"College," Riku replied, stroking the kitten's head. "Obviously it didn't work out."

Riku looked away, expecting him to apologize.

"I'm happy you didn't go," Sora said instead. He didn't have anything to apologize for, so he didn't say he was sorry.

Riku wasn't disappointed that he'd been wrong. He was listening to Tiffany on the phone now.

"_So, everything's under control? I told Sora he could stay here and… yeah, mmhmm, exactly."_

"Why?" Riku asked carefully.

"'Cause if you had, I wouldn't have met you, stupid." Sora grinned.

"Is that so? Riku mused.

"No, it isn't so." His smile turned somewhat more tender, and he stretched out one tanned leg, pressing his toes against Riku's thigh. He'd removed his shoes at the door earlier. "It is so, Riku. It is so."

Panda seemed to rouse somewhat, shifting and opening his sleepy, drooping eyelids. Riku scratched him a little behind his ears, unsure of what else to do, and sighed again, shrugging his shoulders. There was an awkward pause in which Riku stopped to listen to Tiffany's conversation again, unsure of what else had been expected of him.

"_I'll be sure to tell him… and yeah, ask him about that. Okay, hon… see you tonight, right? Okay, love you. Bye then."_

Beep went the phone, signaling the death of the conversation.

"Sora," Tiffany called, walking out of the kitchen with a sort of sleepy swagger. She set the phone down on a nearby end table. Sora looked up. Riku cradled Panda to his chest. "Roxas said that tomorrow the shack's going to be closed, so you better appreciate your vacation. His words, not mine, mind you…"

Sora nodded, looking boyishly attentive.

"And he said you're going to go to the park tomorrow. _And_…" Tiffany grinned. "We're taking a drive down to the beach! Exciting, huh?"

Something stirred inside Riku. Water, sun, beach balls… _beach, water. Water water water._ Oh how he loved the water. A thought occurred to him, though.

"Can we bring Panda? I don't think he likes the sun." Panda meowed in some semblance of 'agreement'. Or, at least, that's what it seemed like.

"Huh," Sora pouted, drawing his knees back toward himself. For the first time Riku found himself staring at his "friend's" sun-kissed skin, studying his lithe frame… and took note of a purple spot here or there, in some places accompanied by a scratch or two. "I guess we could bring him back to Nami tomorrow morning. She's the one that found him, after all."

"You sure she wouldn't want to come, too?" Tiffany inquired, her voice smoother and less croaky than it'd been a few minutes previous.

Sora waved a hand, grinning a lazy sort of half-grin. He seemed to glow so naturally, so easily. Like he really could fly away. _I want to hang on your arms when you fly away. Take me away from this damn place, Sora… Sora._ "I'll make it happen, no worries."

Riku was satisfied with that. He looked up at the ceiling. And, almost as if it pained him, he managed to eke out a quiet thank you. In response, Sora said you're welcome. Tiffany reached over, ruffling both of their hair, and smiled in her own natural pleasantry. "Good boy. That's the Sora I know. Everything will get all sorted out." She gave a little pause. "And speaking of sorted out… gah, I've got some paperwork that needs attending."

"Aw, no more procrastinating, Tif?" Sora asked.

"No more procrastination!" She answered, saluted, and marched back into her bedroom. _Well, wasn't that… anticlimactic? No, wrong word. Overdramatic._

"Sometimes," Riku shook his head, finding himself snorting, "I don't know whether to be disturbed or amused." Then he thought, _hell, did I actually _**say**_that? Am I being a normal human being or what?_ Panda wanted to get off his lap; Riku politely set his three-legged little friend on the couch to explore, and the kitten hobbled over to Sora, flopping down near his thigh.

"You just gotta be a little bit of both and then you don't have to worry 'bout none of that," Sora answered, poking Panda and offering a half-smile. The kitten sneezed. At the same time, Sora and Riku blessed Panda.

_Guess he's got a point there_.

"So… it's your turn, Sora."

"My turn for what?"

"How you ended up in Nowhere-ville, I mean."

"Oh, this dumb old place? I've been here aalllll my life, you know? Scenery doesn't matter, I think. It's the people. People like Roxy." Sora tilted his head back on the arm of the couch and scooped up Panda, setting him on his slender chest.

"You just stay here? Stayed here, I mean?"

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Really?"

" It really is as simple as that, Riku."

Simple. A tight smile tugged at Riku's pink lips.

"I really don't have a choice, but I don't care. Family, businesses… it's all good if you don't think about it too much." His smile held a trace of sadness.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing. Nothing really, anyway. Just thinking aloud." He gave a sort of apologetic laugh. Riku imagined that there was more to it but let it slide. In his life… he just let everything slide and hung on to nothing or nobody. It hurt less that way. It couldn't be his fault if something went wrong, because there was nothing there _to_ go wrong, anyway, in the first place.

"You want go back to your house, Sora?"

"I'll have to, sometime. I can't just stay forever." Even if I might like to, he'd been thinking.

"But not right now?"

"Not right now," he answered. For a minute, Riku thought he heard Leon again. But like a ghost, the sound whispered away without a trace.

"We'll watch something then?"

"Okay. We'll watch something then."

xxx

_I'm having fun, I think. I can't think. Did I take too much vicodin? Is this cuddling? Does he realize his hand's on mine? Why won't you just shut up, brain? Turn off, why don't you?_

Panda fell asleep again. Two hours had gone by mindlessly, the television screen flickering from scene to scene, entertaining their tired minds. Television just made everyone tired and lazy. Summer makes you tired and lazy.

Riku shifted, pale limbs stretching out (save for the hand that had been left caught underneath Sora's tanned one). He wasn't sure if he wanted to move it just yet, and…

Tiffany had come a number of times to check on them, walking in and out very briefly and then returning to what Riku could only assume were more important matters. He swallowed, though, each time looking to the blue eyes across from him, unsure of whether or not he wanted to be left alone with Sora. He just… did things to him. Did things to his brain. It wasn't like those songs had put it where he couldn't breathe, he just… became stupid. Became more talkative, craved attention, essentially lost his mind. And then he just… listened. Listened to Sora; not his words, because he didn't speak too many if he saw Riku didn't want to talk… but listened to his breathing and his sighing and listened to the way it'd make a noise when he reallocated himself on the couch. It was all stupid, stupid, stupid. Leon didn't like to cuddle; he always had a hand up Riku's shirt or down his pants or would busy himself biting and licking places on his neck, places on his chest… places all over his body. Riku had chalked it up to their lack of time together, and Leon's being older, but…

"Riku," Sora gave a little grimace, "your elbow's digging into my ribs."

"Oh." Riku offered dumbly. "Oh," he said again, with a little more enthusiasm. "Sorry." And his arm moved, the hand underneath Sora's slipping away. So it hadn't been intentional… just mindless. Careless. It confused Riku's brain.

Credits were rolling again. Panda was nestled between the two of them, snoozing. Riku wanted to get tangled up in everything and… and _what?_ Die? How could he think such stupid things? The silence crept up on him like an illness, the realization of having nothing to do crawling into the corners of his mind. What was this all for?

Sora reached over, fiddling with the remote, and turned off the television. Riku looked up at him, confused.

"You leaving?"

"Not yet."

Silence. "Riku, have you ever heard of Blue October?"

Riku tried to think. "Maybe. I've heard of Red October." What could be the difference in colors, really?

"No, no. That's a movie. The Hunt for Red October, you mean. I was talking about the band… Justin Furstenfeld, you know?"

Riku tried to think harder. "…doesn't ring any bells."

"You're missing out," Sora simply stated, and then started digging in his back pocket. "Sometimes when he… Panda, I mean… gets restless, Nami liked to play their music. Then he'd calm down again. 'Cause, for some reason… he just gets awfully restless sometimes."

Riku wondered whether Sora had actually been talking about the kitten or had lapsed into mentioning his own restlessness.

"I can't say I blame him," Riku glanced down to the sleeping kitten. _Man, he sleeps a lot. How am I supposed to tell when he's dead, anyway?_

"Yeah… but anyways, I forgot to give the CD to you earlier and stuff. In case you can't get him to settle him down or something. But I have it here…. Unless I crushed it." Sora presented a pink jewel case with a plain, copied CD with a sheepish grin. "Which I didn't."

"Put it on and I'll give it a listen."

So Riku picked up Panda (which woke him) and set him on the floor, sliding off the couch to join him, and Sora got up to put the music on. And it took a few moments, but in that time Panda hobbled across the floor and amused Riku. Amused, huh… The kitten even tripped over its own little feet, and when he did Riku helped him up again. Silly little thing…

Music started floating through the air, flooding the airwaves. Riku didn't mind. Sora shuffled over, after a short victory cry, and sat cross-legged on the opposite side of Riku. Panda wandered back and forth between the two of them and it made Sora laugh. It made Riku laugh, too, just a little bit. But only a little bit.

"There was this game we used to play when we were younger… not with animals or anything, but with little rubber balls. And we'd sit across from each other, just like now, and we'd roll the ball back and forth."

How childish… but they were kids, weren't they? Riku had a stupid urge to want to play that sort of game. Like when he was playing with Simon. He used to get so… very, very infuriated with him, but Simon would still return with watery eyes and cling to his older brother. So Riku would sigh and forgive him. Then, another day, the cycle would start all over again.

Riku didn't know what to say.

"But anyway…" He smiled, looking suddenly a little flustered.

"It's nice," Riku answered, not wanting to leave Sora hanging and fishing for words.

"It was nice," Sora agreed (even though he wasn't sure what he'd been agreeing with).

_Ever carried the weight of another? For how long? I walk as far as they need to recover. For how long?_

Riku closed his eyes. "I like the song, I mean."

Sora nodded in agreement again.

"I have to go out and buy cat food now… and a litter box and…"

"We have it all under control. Roxas is gonna bring over all the stuff later… He's fixed, too."

"Ah." Relief. "Okay." Panda romped around as if he really had all four little furry legs, then happily hopped into Sora's lap.

_But I'm happy that you're happy  
This is no longer about me._

Riku felt exhausted all over again. Maybe he'd had too much of Sora. Maybe he wanted him to go home already.

"You're coming to the beach tomorrow, right? You're not going to chicken out at the last second?"

"Most likely Roxy will drag me even if I hadn't wanted to go."

"Good." Sora smiled. "I'll leave the CD and Panda to you… and you'll be all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, no reason. Just checkin'." He lifted the little critter off of his lap and set him on the ground. There he stayed, flopping on his rear end and beginning to lick himself. "I think I'm ready to go… I'll prolly head back to the shack, though."

"All right," Riku said, acknowledging him. Part of him was sad to see him leave, and another wanted him to stay and continue to say stupid things.

_Throughout the years he's been my friend  
Who's always there._

"…thanks for being here, I guess."

"It was nice."

"I'll see you… tomorrow, then?"

"Bright and early, Ri-ku!"

Tiffany, papers in hand, wandered back into the room. "Leaving, then, Sora?"

"Yep, I'm heading out. Thanks for letting me stay, Tif."

"My pleasure," she said, an inflection of genuine honesty ringing in her voice. "Make sure my nephew doesn't work himself too hard, hm? I'll see you tomorrow, too."

_My life isn't so bad… why do I always feel like I have to be serious all the time? Why does all this make my head hurt? Why couldn't I just have not met you, Sora? Why'd you have to come? I don't want to go tomorrow… oh God, but if I don't go… I'd be a stupid liar. But what's so different about now and before? I always was a stupid liar. Why should I care? God…_

"I'll be sure to tell him," Sora said with a nod, slowly climbing to his feet. Once there, he offered a hand to Riku, helping him on to his feet where he wouldn't have been able to get up otherwise. They were staring at each other. Then, as if it were any other ordinary action, he reached out his arms and hugged Riku. Just because he looked like he needed one. Riku tensed a moment, but figured if he didn't hug him back he'd run the risk of looking like an idiot. So, ever so gently, like in the gesture of a hug… like someone who's never been hugged before in their life, Riku wrapped his arms around him.

In that moment, everything was so still. Riku thought he'd actually forgotten how to breathe, and in the end he _still_ ended up looking like an idiot.

The worst part was the camera that Tiffany seemed to pull out of her ass, and in a split second forever blind his eyes with the bright flash. At first he stared like a deer caught in headlights, and afterwards let go, almost jerkily, falling backwards on his less-than-cushioned behind.

"It's a conspiracy!" Sora laughed. "Riku Inoue caught hugging someone! Quick, where's the press?"

"Oh, you are just _too_ hilarious." His tone didn't drip with sarcasm, it _bathed_ in it. "Get outta here before I kick your ass, Sora."

"I'm oh-so scared, Riku. See me cower in fear." He smiled and stuck out his tongue. "Nice reflexes, Tif. I'm just a little afraid for you, though."

"Remember? I'm very… convincing. You have nothing to worry about." She set the camera down. "C'mere and give me a hug."

He did. Panda looked up, completely and utterly confused. Struggling, Riku made it to his knees, but could not stand. Soon after Sora turned to leave she offered Riku her hand, helping him up as Sora had done earlier. She then proceeded to pick up Panda, cradling him in her arms and kissing his little head.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow," Sora repeated.

"Bye," Riku and Tiffany said, though not in unison.

Sora walked out the door.

Sora will be good for him, Tiffany was thinking.

_I need more painkillers_, Riku thought.

xxx

Riku sat in his room, looking out the opened window. Sora hadn't asked to see his room, but that was fine because Riku probably wouldn't have let him (even though there wasn't much in there to see). Riku sat with George, his little monkey, and continually got after Panda for nibbling on him. He's already broken enough, thank you very much, Riku would say. Meow, Panda would reply. Meow meow meow, he'd finish. Riku just rolled his eyes.

Later, before Roxas came home, Panda marked Riku's bedspread with his scent. Riku hadn't been too pleased, and Tiffany had to take care of the laundry for the next few hours. Then Riku had scolded Panda, telling him he was old enough to know not to wet the bed. Then he'd sigh and feel stupid for talking to a cat.

After all the semantics, only sheets on his bed, Panda curled up at his feet, Riku looked out the window. George made him feel better. George made him miss Leon. It was dark outside.

_Grow the hell up, Riku._

xxx

"Long day," Roxas sighed, dropping off an armful of items for the kitten on the counter. "Long, long day that I'm glad is over." He clicked the door shut behind him. "How'd you fare? All rested up?"

"Well, I was… but papers made me want to fall asleep again. You know how that goes. Did Sora go back to work after he came here?"

"Yeah… he stopped by for a little visit, but I sent him home not too long after he dropped in. He woke up early to make arrangements for the kitten and all that, so I felt bad for keeping him on his feet. I told him he didn't even have to work, but he insisted on it. We've been hauling ass this last week." Roxas ran his hands through his hair, sighing again in utmost relief.

"Sounds generous. Now… tell me. Who are you and where have you taken my nephew?"

Roxas grinned tiredly.

"Joking, of course."

"Ha. Really… you okay with Riku here? Where is he, anyway?"

"Riku's been in his room. Last I saw of him he was getting after the cat for spewing yellow rain all over his blankets. I've been doing laundry for the past two hours or so… I'm pretty much ready for bed. It's been quiet since Sora left, mostly."

"I'm going to head to bed soon, too. I'm sorry about the whole cat pee thing, I've got his litter box right here."

Tiffany waved a hand, picking up her cup and sipping a glass of water. "Don't worry about it. If worst comes to worst, it's just a blanket. We can get another one." She shrugged.

"That's true, I guess…" but he still wanted to apologize again and again. "Do you know what time we should head out tomorrow?"

"Well…" Tiffany pulled out a chair, setting her cup down on the table and making a place for herself. "Since you guys wanted to see the park for a bit… I figured we could leave around lunchtime. That should put us there for about… twoish? Then we could spend the rest of day there. What do you think?"

"Hmm," Roxas was putting away the cat food and the little toys, then fiddled with the litter box. "Sounds good to me. I'll talk it over with my crew at the shack tomorrow. We're meeting there."

"It'll be nice to go somewhere for once… we haven't been to the beach in… I can't even remember how long it's been."

"I haven't visited since I was like seven, 'cause I was living near Riku… I remember in the summer that one time."

"Oh," Tiffany laughed. "Man, that feels nostalgic… I remember. You lost your ball in the ocean and you were so upset over it. It had to be at the end of the day, too… you were crying for most of the car ride home."

"Yeah, I know… it was so cramped in there, even if it was a van. I guess it just made me cranky."

"To be putting it lightly, anyway."

"You're so mean to me, you know that?"

"I know." She grinned devilishly.

Roxas pouted. "I'm going to put the litter box in the bathroom, and then I'm going to get ready for bed."

"All right. Nighty night, Roxas. Say goodnight to Riku for me. I'll be in my bed if you need me."

"Will do. G'night Aunty Tiffany."

"Muah."

xxx

Knock, knock, knock.

Come in, Riku said. The door swung open slowly.

"Tiffany told me about your blankets… I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to be gone so long."

"It's fine," Riku replied. He'd brought a little stereo in here and was listening to the CD Sora had given him. _Sound of Pulling Heaven Down_ played quietly in the background.

"You feeling okay, Mr. Gloomy?"

"Yeah." Riku had been snuggled into his sheets, window still open, and almost half-asleep.

"Sora seemed to have a pretty good time over here, from what he told me."

"It was nice," Riku shrugged. He seemed tired of repeating that.

"Tiffany says good night. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," Riku finished. "Night, Roxy."

"Night Riku. And night Panda."

Panda meowed.

Roxas turned on his heel and left, closing the door noiselessly behind him. The stereo still played, only a notch above a whisper.

_You make the sound of pulling heaven down  
You brought the rain's romantic pour  
You make the sound  
You make the sound  
Of pulling heaven down_

Riku fell asleep with the CD still playing.

* * *

**Author's note:** There's the end of the chapter, once again. Hope you enjoyed it, and will perchance leave a review. Blue October is probably the best band ever, just so you know. Check them out, yeah? (P.S. If you didn't catch it, Nami is their nickname for Naminé.)


	4. Hey Jupiter

**Disclaimer:** Nothing here is owned by me, except the fanfic. Which… I hope I do own, considering I am writing it, after all.

**Author's note:** Aoi Para, you are lovely. That's all I shall say, 'cause you know what I mean.

Thanks to everyone who reviews this thing (or even just takes the time out of their lives to read it). I give you my love.

**P.S.** Everyone, I'm sorry for taking so long to update. My mind has been elsewhere, working on further chapters. Updating from now on shouldn't take too long… summer is approaching, woo. Just five more weeks and school's out (for me).

* * *

**Black Orchid**

'Hey Jupiter'

Riku woke up to snow. Or… at least he thought he did. Maybe he wished he'd woken up to snow because he'd been dreaming about it. The snow melted. Maybe, at one time, there had been a whole bunch of snow and it all just… _melted_, simply in that same way. That's where the oceans came from. Except, no… that wasn't quite right, was it? Groggily, Riku pulled himself out of bed, having to nudge Panda off of his legs. Stupid mornings… Riku hated change, and didn't want to have to deal with a sleepy, whining kitten on his bed. Panda collected himself, shuddering as he stretched, opening his mouth wide in a yawn. From there he decided he wanted to hop back on Riku's lap, kneading his almost exposed thighs. Of course, as most things concerning Riku went, it did not go over well. With a restrained scolding from Riku and a push, Panda fell backward onto his furry little butt. He sneezed, trying to look cute, but Riku just shook his head. "If you want to sleep on this bed, respect me." But Panda didn't understand. Of course kittens didn't understand. He got right back up on his three short legs and began nuzzling Riku's hand. Meow, meow, meow, Panda said. Riku sighed.

His door was open, and he really couldn't find a good explanation for why, exactly, that was. He thought he remembered Roxas having closed it last night… and then he thought that there wasn't ever a time where he recalled it being _open_. Not since he moved here, no… why did things have to start _changing_? Riku rubbed his head, running slender digits through sticky hair, and with his other hand spilled out the remaining contents of his vicodin bottle. Just like that House guy on television, right? Ha. Riku felt like he should just make fun of himself.

Scratch, scratch, scratch went his fingernails across his scalp, thoughtfully itching his head. He tilted his head back, tossing a small white pill in his mouth and swallowing hard, saliva trickling down his dry throat. He remembered the doctor saying something about dry swallowing being dangerous, though the silver haired boy disregarded it out of laziness. He didn't have water within arm's reach and pain crawled up his legs like irritating little spiders. Riku clenched his teeth, sighed, and downed two more. Refills… Tiffany could pick up the prescription tomorrow. He had three more waiting for his arrival home tonight.

Tonight, tomorrow… what time was it, anyway? A quick glance to the stereo (which Riku only had a faint recollection of dragging into his room) and he blinked. 10:03. Could that be right? Either the clock was wrong, or… Or he'd missed out on the park escapade altogether.

_Shit_, he thought first. Everyone's initial thought always seemed to be a swear. Then he thought, sort of moodily, _There's always the beach. Early mornings suck anyway._

He stood suddenly, pain coursing through the bones in his feet and up through the tendons in his calves. "Ow, damn it," Riku muttered, half-disguising a whimper as a grunt, and habitually brushed his clothes down with his hands. Blood rushed directly to his head, giving him a strange, fuzzy sense of almost-euphoria that annoyingly clouded his vision. "Ow, ow… fuck." He thought about taking the last three vicodin and then thought better of it. At least he hadn't fallen yet.

"Riku, are you up?" Came a call from the living room. Riku recognized it as Tiffany's voice.

Mimicking his master, Panda hopped to the ground. Though, perhaps to amuse the cynical Riku, the kitten fell flat on his face.

"Some grace you have," Riku murmured, and in one fell swoop snatched up the clumsy kitten, holding him to his chest like a fragile piece of china. He hadn't even realized that he'd managed to bend down without an accident. "Yeah, I'm here," Riku rasped.

"You saved me a trip," she chimed. "I was just about to wake you up. C'mere and help me out, you lazy bum."

"I'm coming," Riku said, footsteps slow and shuffling. He'd almost felt about to trip, but had saved himself the humiliation. "What time is it?"

"Ten o' four," she answered (but not without a peek at the clock). "Roxas is still at the park; we figured we'd let you sleep so you could be all rested for the beach."

"Huh," Riku managed.

"You're not mad, are you?"

Panda looked up at Riku. Lazily, he pressed his chin to the teen's shoulder, as if saying 'you deal with this; it's not my problem and I'm not going to get in the middle of it'.

"Just a little, but whatever." He'd wished that someone could have at least had the courtesy to rouse him and inform him of their plans. _It's not like you absolutely had to leave me in the dark…_ Riku wasn't frowning, he just looked… dull and complacent.

"Aw, don't be such a grump bug in the morning."

"What'd you need help with?" Riku asked rather abruptly, dismissing the subject and looking toward Tiffany. Panda wriggled out of his arms, hopping on top of the couch like a skilled… well, Riku would find a fitting word sooner or later. He closed his eyes.

_Wouldn't everything just be so much easier if I weren't around? Nobody would have to be stressed anymore, or go out of their way to be nice to me, or… _

Tiffany stared with her brilliantly blue eyes. Oblivious she might have been to the thoughts running around in Riku's scattered brain, she still recognized his mildly hurt tone of voice. Or maybe that was annoyance she was hearing. Was he throwing a temper tantrum?

Grown boys don't throw temper tantrums, do they…?

Considering the word 'boy' still hanging on to the phrase, Tiffany figured it was perfectly reasonable. Just like Roxas and his missing beach ball (regardless of the fact that her nephew had only just turned seven at that time).

"You can sit, if you'd like." She paused, correcting herself. "No, I'm telling you to sit, actually." She patted a couch cushion, bending over just barely to do so. "So sit."

His aqua eyes flickered open. He always thought that aqua was a stupid adjective (along with platinum).

_What am I, a dog?_

If Tiffany _could_ have heard Riku's thoughts, she might have dragged him by his shirt collar to the nearest chair, forced his ass onto said furniture, and made a rash comment something along the lines of, 'well, if you want me to treat you like a normal human being, why don't you start _acting_ like one?' Maybe it was the thought of the beach that threw her mood off. Maybe it was being alone with Riku for the second day in a row. But for whatever reason…

Tiffany quirked an eyebrow, expecting some form of response. So, lazily, Riku mustered the energy to drag his tired legs across the floor. Maybe he was being an ass. Scratch that, he _was_ being an ass. It wasn't intentional, though… it was just… just…

Just what?

Just Riku Inoue? Was that an excuse for being an ass?

Riku was a special sort of ass. And he parked that ass of his on the couch, plopping comfortably on the squishy material. Panda looked down at him, curious. Riku blinked but didn't look back up at his furry counterpart.

"Good. Now… help me with this, please? I did stay up an extra couple hours washing your blankets for you last night."

_It was mostly Roxas' fault_, Riku wanted to whine. But Riku didn't whine, so he didn't say anything.

"I've got everything here… it just needs to be organized. Like the cooler. And these inflatable things… I'm going to go grab us some towels, so I wanted us both to be doing something… so we'll be done before the rest of the gang gets here."

_You just said so twice in the same sentence_, Riku was thinking.

Riku sighed. "Sure."

"You don't have to come along if you don't want to," she added smoothly. It made Riku feel guilty in a strange, hollow way. She turned to leave, intending to head towards the small 'alcove' they called their laundry room.

"I'll come."

"You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure."

xxx

"So you're okay with watching Panda for a little while?" Sora and Naminé were walking a trail; Kairi, Olette, and Roxas had taken another path, splitting the five up to regroup later. Sora walked comfortably with his hands behind his head, hopping over a rock or a stray branch or two as he approached them.

"Mm," Naminé answered, nodding her head. Her flip-flops made gentle protests against her heels as she walked, light lavender dress swishing against her legs. "It's fine by me. I burn too easily in the sun, anyway."

Sora inhaled deeply. Pleased by her response, he smiled. His knee-length silver shorts hid the light splashes of purple that adorned his thighs, though his matching orange t-shirt did nothing to mask the scratches running along the lengths of his arms. I'm a very active person, he assured everyone; he always seemed to prove his point (whether by climbing a tree or jumping into a river), so nobody really questioned such injuries.

"Thanks; I'm sorry it's so last minute and everything, but…"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, you big goof. Just enjoy yourself."

"You don't have to worry about that," Sora reassured her, momentarily fixing his gaze to the bright blue sky. Sora always had fun. Even in this blazing heat he could find promise for the day. The beach excited him--made little nervous butterflies flit around in his half-filled stomach.

Naminé grinned, clutching her little sketchbook and hugging it to her chest. She'd always been fond of drawing people and scenery in their most pure, raw form. Roxas told her once, quite gravely, that some people believed being drawn on paper was to have your soul stolen away. Then, after a moment of somber, solemn silence, he'd laugh. Then she'd laugh, too, flipping through her little book and counting all the people in it. Afterwards she'd report the number of souls she'd stolen for that day, and that would make Roxas laugh again. Good girl, he'd say, or something along those lines.

"You know what I've been thinking, though?" Sora looked to the side, his hands drifting from his head and into his pockets, finding a nesting place in their shallow depths.

Naminé looked back at him; her simple, clear blue gaze settled on his blue eyes. "Hmm… you've been thinking it's time to eat again, right?"

Sora attempted a frown (which looked more like a pathetic excuse for a pout than anything); the expression just didn't seem to work on his pretty little face. "Now that you mention it, I could go for some lunch." To be cliché, it could be said that Sora's stomach growled; it didn't, though. The blue-eyed boy just became more aware of his hunger, and this made his abdomen almost hurt.

"I've been thinking that we should get a boat. You know… a small one that we could all use. We could go fishing and I could be the quote-fiend I am… and you could draw and stuff. Like, look… we could use the radio I have back at my house. It's solar-powered and everything."

"You know what I think?" Naminé stepped over a particularly thick root of a tree.

"And what do you think, O wise sage?"

Naminé laughed a little. "I think…" She paused, skipping over a log. "…you're just a little bit crazy. I don't even like fish."

"That's why you could sit and draw," Sora pointed out cleverly.

Naminé still didn't seem to believe it was a good idea.

"There are other ways we can all hang out together. Ways that smell less like seafood and involve more being out of the sun," she offered softly.

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged his slender shoulders. He seemed a little put out but didn't predominantly let it bother him. Traces of a half-smile still managed to linger on his lips.

All around him it smelled like trees. Trees and animals and the faint, distant aroma of the park concession stands with their almost-not-quite edible hot dogs (which really was just a euphemism for 'toxic waste'). He could hear the water from the river not too far ahead, its babbling much more soothing than that of a child's. Sora liked to think that rivers hummed rather than babbled; it was just easier to imagine that way. He could hear the chirping of birds, the voices of children and their parents who also decided to walk these very same dirt pathways.

"If you want I could give you my dad's old fishing rod, but… besides, Sora…. The nearest lake is about an hour away. You couldn't just leave our boat there, now could you?"

"I guess not," he responded.

"We don't have to have a boat to go fishing, though."

"But it'd be more private."

"That's true."

They were silent.

"Wanna skip some rocks?" Sora asked.

"Sure." Naminé nodded. "Maybe they'll meet us at the water."

"Yeah, maybe." Sora's lazy grin was… easy. So very, very easy.

So, like they'd said, they skipped rocks across the river and to the other side.

Skip, skip, skip went the rocks.

xxx

Ironically, Riku Inoue's towel had Winnie the Pooh all over it. It seemed to be missing Eeyore, though, but that was okay because more often than not Riku felt disconnected from any and all group activities. He carefully folded it, tossing his 'drying utensil' on the coffee table by the couch. Panda looked at it as if it were his bed, but seemed to mourn the fact that he could not reach the table from here. Riku rolled his eyes at him (his most common response to the strange kitten), and stroked his head. Riku decided absently that if they had to be Pooh characters, Tiffany would be Kanga and Roxas would be Roo. It didn't even have to make sense--Riku thought it, so it just sort of… was. And that was the way it would stay.

It didn't take long to get everything packed, even though Tiffany had to carry everything into the car by herself. It wasn't as if Riku could temporarily cure his inability to walk properly, so he busied himself with other matters. Other matters included gathering up all Panda's stuff and putting it in a bag, brushing his teeth, and drinking a glass of water. Panda flexed his claws, snuggling into himself, but all the while watched lazily.

_Some help you are_, Riku looked to the furry little curled up ball and frowned. He swore he saw Panda's tongue stretch out at him, a mocking gesture.

Oh, how that cat would be trouble. Riku snorted.

Ring ring ring!

"Could you get that?" Tiffany shouted from outside, turning her head toward the open door so Riku could hear her. Her voice trickled in just like a pathetic, leaking faucet.

Riku managed a "sure," which wasn't really audible in the first place, and limped weakly over to the phone, clicking in the 'talk' button. He didn't recognize the number on the caller ID, and flatly expected it to be some sort of telemarketer.

"Hi, this is the Oriole's residence," Riku managed, attempting some semblance of politeness, "Who's calling?"

"Is Riku there? Riku Inoue?"

Pause.

"Depends. Who's calling?"

_Don't make me repeat myself again_.

"My… Hayner. Hayner Prince."

Riku put a hand to the counter, staring straight at the floor.

"_Hayner_? How'd you get this number?"

"Your mom gave it to me," the boy on the other side of the phone answered, his voice a little clearer, firmer. Riku thought he felt a faint twinge of confidence over Hayner's side of the phone.

It made him nervous.

"Oh, well…" If Riku was the type of person to have a nervous habit, and if this phone didn't happen to be cordless, he would have been twirling said cord around his long, pale digits. "I can't really talk right now."

_Hang up, idiot_.

"Simon said he misses you."

_Asshole!_

Riku tensed. Hayner knew just how to push his buttons, didn't he?

"Don't bring my brother into this," Riku breathed.

A long moment of silence ensued.

"Are you and Roxas together now, or what?"

More silence. Furious silence. The awkward situation almost pained him.

"In the same bed?" he continued.

"It was _never_ like that."Defensive.

"Well, then what _is_ it like? One moment you're here, and the next…" Offensive.

Riku's eyes narrowed.

"And the next moment you're off living with Roxas in some place miles away from here, never answering any of my e-mails or _letters_, or…"

"Maybe I just don't want to talk to you."

"Well ma-"

Riku hung up, slamming the receiver into its rightful slot and slumping against the counter.

"Who was that?" Tiffany asked casually, footsteps quiet. She closed the door behind her. Riku hadn't expected her to be so close; he jolted just a little. She didn't seem to notice.

Why was it so sweltering in here?

"Some guy who was really enthusiastic about wanting to sell me some soap," Riku responded dryly.

Tiffany laughed.

"Speaking of soap," she said, "you should take a quick shower before we leave."

"Yeah." Riku shrugged. "Good idea." He headed for the shower. Panda hopped off the arm of the couch he'd been perched on and curiously trotted after him.

Maybe Panda wanted to shower, too.

xxx

"_Riku, don't be such a baby…"_

"_I'm not being a baby."_

"_It's just one night."_

"_I said no."_

"_Don't bail on me now."_

"_I never agreed in the firs-nnn, ahnn… stop it."_

"_Say… please."_

xxx

Riku tried to wash away the thoughts, clear his memory of Hayner's name. He'd forgotten, almost, in fleeting moments. It was always there, but… now it was here in the front of his mind, active. Like the floodgates had been opened, and all of the sudden he… just couldn't _stop_ remembering.

At least Panda distracted him, romping around and trying to catch the water in his mouth, biting down on it.

xxx

_Riku, tears in his eyes. Real, unwonted tears. He shuddered, one wet cheek placed on Roxas' shoulder._

_Riku couldn't really muster the energy to say anything at all._

"_I'm sorry," Roxas said. Because Roxas was always, always sorry._

_But no amount of sorry could undo what had happened._

xxx

Shampoo drizzled off his silver locks, suds sliding down his pale, naked body and down the drain. Panda had a large 'beard' full of soapy bubbles and that made Riku laugh. His kitten would smell like vanilla almond sugar cubes (according to the label on the shampoo bottle) when he dried… and surprisingly he didn't mind at all.

xxx

"_Where do you get off doing that sort of shit to other people? Riku's your friend, not your… not your…"_

"_It wasn't..."_

"_So you're going to pretend like fucking him was an accident?"_

"_I…"_

"_Stay the hell away from us, Hayner."_

xxx

A lot of things happened at once. Riku dried himself (and Panda) off, taking a few minutes to find a decent change of clothes. Roxas and his friends came back, settled down a moment and made small talk, and Tiffany started the car.

It was funny, though. So many other things could be happening in the world. Somebody could be being raped. Somebody could be dying… somebody could be celebrating the birth of their child. Somebody could be outside at the park eating soft serve ice cream. Riku wrinkled his nose, carrying Panda out of his room, shuffling toward the sound of conversation.

"Ready?" Riku asked Roxas moodily, perhaps still a little bruised about not being invited to the park. He leaned up against the back of the couch, Panda wriggling out of his arms, anxious to check out all the new presences in his domain.

_You act more like a dog than a cat._ Riku supposed it couldn't be helped; he allowed Panda to slip out of his hold and slide clumsily down the couch.

Roxas turned his head at the inquiry, blinking. He offered a faint smile. "Yeah. Have you met everyone, Riku?"

Riku didn't want to meet everyone. His eyes found Sora's; it was the only real sense of comfort he'd felt all day. Sora just smiled warmly and offered a little wiggle of his fingers, obviously meant to be a wave.

"Not officially," Riku said. His patience was gradually thinning out.

So Roxas went into the whole introduction thing. This is Kairi, he'd said, indicating the red-head (Riku remembered seeing her before). This is Olette, he continued, pointing to a girl with dark brown hair and bright green eyes.

_Card shark and puppy girl_, Riku remembered.

And this is Naminé, he finished, saying something about Panda.

They all greeted him in their quirky ways, and Riku nodded. Tiffany honked her horn. Sora looked outside. Roxas rubbed the back of his head, mentioning something about leaving, and they all seemed to understand.

Olette and Naminé (and who could forget Panda?) were left behind, and the four remaining 'friends' climbed into the vehicle.

Tiffany left nothing but dust behind her.

xxx

The ride took longer than any of the passengers (or the driver, for that matter) wanted to admit. There wasn't anything good on the radio (read: they all had different tastes in music and the constant flipping of stations resulted in one disagreement after another), Riku was still tired (which meant he was also very irritable), and there were long, uncomfortable lengths of silences. It made Riku's skull ache, and as a result the silver-haired teen rested his head on Sora's shoulder. He could barely be considered a teen anymore, his twentieth birthday approaching in August. Everyone here (save Tiffany) was younger than him. The three kids in the car were all seventeen.

And, admittedly, they were all quite tired.

"It's kinda cold in here, Roxas… would you mind turning the AC down a little?" Kairi shifted, shoulders sort of slumped, weary from being forced in this position for a good three hours (or had it been longer than that?). She adjusted her yellow bikini, plucking at the straps, and then smoothed down the towel folded on her thighs. She pouted; her face was pretty, delicate, Riku observed earlier.

"Sure," Roxas responded, after okaying it with Tiffany. The icy gusts weakened somewhat.

"Thanks," she responded, and afterwards began to engage in idle chit-chat with Sora. Riku kept his eyes closed for the most part, occasionally lifting his head and turning his gaze toward the outside world. Out the windows of the SUV… everything just looked the same. Riku wondered, absently, why Sora and Kairi weren't together. The look the redhead gave Sora, the oblivious warmhearted brunette, seemed altogether too obvious for Riku to stand. He didn't say anything, though-why would he, after all?

Kairi was nice; bubbly, sort of like Sora, though Riku noted her occasional uncomfortable or wistful sigh. He also found her to be rather more bothersome than the friendly brunette—maybe, though, that had something to do with her gender. Kairi scratched her back, pausing in mid-conversation to stare at Riku. Really, Roxas' silver-haired companion had been noticeably quiet for almost the whole ride.

So, abandoning the topic about vegetables (which neither Sora nor Kairi could remember how said subject even came about), Kairi reached over and poked Riku's shoulder gently. "Hey," she said.

Riku lifted his head, indicating he was listening (or half-listening, at least). He blinked but said nothing.

"Are you selectively mute or something?" She poked him again.

"He's just being Riku," Tiffany answered.

_Geeze, let the boy speak for himself, will ya?_ Kairi leaned her head on Sora's shoulder, too; if they were such good friends, her and Sora… why didn't he mention the girl at all?

Riku wasn't certain how to respond, cranium pressed to the cold glass, half-heartedly watching buildings and other cars go by. He drummed his fingers on his thigh, bored.

Roxas was being quiet, too, as if oddly irritated about something. It'd been _his_ idea to go to the beach, and maybe he blamed himself for his friends' somewhat ill temperament. He didn't remember having to sit this long doing nothing; maybe it was just the fact that he was doing nothing that made it seem like forever.

Kairi poked him, too.

"There's a buncha glum bums in here today," she mused lightheartedly, trying to rid the atmosphere of its thick, heavy… Kairi didn't even know _what_ the atmosphere was. Bored wasn't strong enough of a word.

"Am not glum," Roxas crossed his arms over his chest, huffing. Sora laughed. Tiffany kept on driving.

"Are too," she remarked, then added thoughtfully, "I bet you wouldn't be so down in the dumps if your pretty little girlfriend was here."

"She's not my girlfriend!" Roxas flushed.

The corner of Riku's lips turned up, allowing some semblance of a wry smile to crawl across his features. It was good to see something normal going on in his friend's life. Roxas needed it… everyone needed some dose of normalcy from one place or another.

Strange as it was… Riku felt as if… Sora was _his_ occasional dosage. Thoughts about Hayner, though, were like an antibody to the drug; the phone call had been the thing to leave him silent most of the ride there.

He needed to talk to Roxas about Hayner.

But he didn't.

But he did.

But he didn't.

But he _did_, except he didn't _want_ to.

So he didn't; maybe he'd corner him tomorrow when they all weren't so agitated.

xxx

"Hey, we're here!"

In the last twenty minutes of the ride, Riku had dozed off into a rather uncomfortable slumber. He could feel his sore, cramped muscles, and sat inside a tight little box made of cardboard. His family had been shipped and sold, dragging cinderblock chains by their ankles, leaving a hollow-eyed child behind. And, behind… there were hands… hands, hands, hands all over him. So, when Sora gently took the silver haired boy by his shoulder and shook him delicately, Riku jolted in a painful way.

Hands touching him like that…

_Never_ again, not without permission.

"Whoa, cool it, princess." Kairi blinked. "You all right there, hon? You gonna make it?"

Sora looked confused; he dropped his hand anyway, staring at a wide-eyed Riku. Roxas shot Riku a knowing look, twisting back in his seat. Tiffany had already hopped out of the car, eager to stretch her legs and to grab something out of the cooler.

They were all _starving_. Okay, well… maybe just severely famished. Even Riku felt his stomach rumble from slight hunger pains (which he clearly ignored), but made no comment.

"Just fine," Riku announced, pupils returning to their un-dilated state, pushing back some sweaty strands of silver hair. He looked down at his feet, a small pair of black flip-flops staring back at him. It wasn't as if he had been going to wear them with all that sand-anybody who didn't go barefoot was just a little bit crazy. (Or maybe a little bit smart, considering how unbearably hot the earth could get at this time of day.)

Riku opened the door, sliding from his seat like a big puddle of goo. Roxas slipped from his place, too, intending to help Riku walk to the parking meter so they could insert some change. Sora and Kairi only seemed to be concentrated on the food; they exited the car and headed straight for the cooler.

Slam, slam, slam, one door could be heard closing after another.

Roxas busied himself digging in his pockets for the change Tiffany gave him only a few hours ago, and made a face when the quarters kept eluding them. The sun here was nothing but hot, hot, hot. Riku breathed in, squinting back the sunlight that felt as if it were blinding him. He plunged his hand suddenly into Roxas' back pocket, retrieving a little less than a dozen shiny coins, and Roxas blinked.

"I saw you put them there before," Riku simply stated.

"Ah," was Roxas' clever retort; he took the change and, coin after coin, fed the hungry, greedy machine. Then, after having accumulated enough for the meter to read several hours, he looked back to Riku. His friend continued to look relatively complacent.

"You all right, Ri?"

Riku made a face. "Yeah. I think I stepped in something sticky." He raised one black flip flop.

Roxas laughed, inspecting it with a brief glance.

"Guess you're just a regular gumshoe or something."

Silence. "You're worse than I am at making jokes, you know that?"

"I know that."

Riku freed his foot, and together the childhood friends made their way to the cooler.

xxx

Lunch. Sweet, sweet lunch. Riku opted for a bite of some bread and Capri Sun, though Sora and the others had taken it upon themselves to make whole sandwiches. Riku sat in the back of the trunk as his friends ate, frowning slightly, though glad for the reprieve from the sun. The trunk's lid shaded him, which was nice. The others decided to sit on the hot sidewalk (which Riku didn't really get at all), munching away on their deli-bread-vegetable combination of choice. Sora just had a simple ham and cheese, and Kairi… well, why did he care what they were eating, anyway?

He nibbled on some crackers, figuring he ought to put a little bit more of something in his stomach, and kicked his legs out of boredom. The air smelled of salt; Riku made out the sorrowful cry of gulls contrasting against the cheerful shouts or giggles of children. The waves drowned them out, he liked to think… because the waves drowned everything out. A pleasant ocean breeze swept over the beach, kicking up sand and blowing away kids' beach balls.

"After we finish eating," Tiffany said, breaking the momentary silence, "I'm going to head to that little store over there-" at this she pointed to a place right across the street from where they'd parked, "and buy an umbrella… just for the day."

"Mm," Roxas nodded, still chewing. Kairi whispered something in Sora's ear that made the brunette smile a little.

"So would you guys mind just picking a spot and setting up our towels and stuff?"

"No problem, Miss O," Kairi responded softly, gazing fleetingly at the blue, cloudless sky.

"Thanks." Tiffany sighed, seeming tired. Riku didn't remember her ever… not being cheerful. It seemed strange, unnatural… but he shrugged it off, putting away his crackers as she took the last bite of her sandwich. In no time at all the four teens were unloading the car (Riku could still use his arms, after all), and as Tiffany left they shut the trunk.

It was only a short walk to the beach, and on the sidewalks they'd conveniently included railings on the walls that overlooked the shore; Riku didn't need to be aided, and because the other three friends were carrying heavier items, they'd all slung their towels over his shoulders.

It'll help prevent sunburn, Kairi pointed out with a light little snicker. She seemed determined, for whatever reason, to include Riku as a part of the group. Riku was having trouble coming up with an answer to that peculiar little quirk of hers, and at the same time concentrated on avoiding running children, barking dogs, and Frisbees that whizzed overhead.

As soon as they'd tread through the sand for a little over a minute, they began dumping things on the hot sand and kicking off their shoes. Riku laid out the towels and Kairi helpfully took out the sun block. The other two boys set up the food, bags, and the ages old toy buckets they'd decided to bring at the last minute. Sandcastles, Tiffany suggested. Riku could sit and make sandcastles, since long walks on the beach were quite frankly out of the question.

"So, Ri-ku," Kairi chimed, watching the boy wrestle with his shirt, "why don't you talk?"

Kairi hadn't expected such a quick response, but Riku just shrugged and said, "Nothing to talk about." He discarded his top on the sand, putting a hand over his eyes to protect them from the sun.

"Ooh, wow… you're awfully pale, aren't you?" She spared a look to Roxas, pouting. "Roxanne prob'ly doesn't let you out of your little cavern, does he? I _told_ him growing boys need their sunshine…"

"Don't call me that," Roxas shot back, cutting her off before she could finish whatever she'd been saying. Riku quirked an eyebrow. He'd almost wanted to laugh.

Kairi laughed. "Anyway, you prob'ly burn really easy, too. Lemme help you with this…" And without asking, she squirted a large handful of white goop onto her hand and plopped it right onto Riku's back, rubbing it into his shoulders.

"He-ey!" It was an instinctive, reflexive sort of outcry. "That's _cold_," Riku hissed.

"Don't be such a _baby_, I'm trying to help you here-oh, would you quit squirming?"

Their antics had Sora--who had only a moment before plopped onto his respective towel--laughing in an unrestrained manner. Roxas flicked some sand at him, grinning a little, and took out a pair of sunglasses from one of the few bags that surrounded the cooler.

Riku scowled, pretty aquamarine eyes narrowing. Sora continued to laugh at his predicament until Roxas chucked another thing of sunscreen into Sora's lap. In only a moment they'd all forgotten about the long, annoying drive down here.

"Seriously, Roxas, this kid needs to get out more." Kairi pinched Riku's cheek and the teen swatted her hand away. ("Don't do that.")

"Hey," Roxas shrugged, burying his feet in the lower, colder layers of the sand with a sigh, "it's not my fault. I invite him places all the time."

"Bah. You just aren't forceful enough." The girl made a face, poking Riku's shoulder. She seemed to be really fixated with his company. She had told Roxas that he was cute only the day before, after all. Riku listened to the cry of gulls overhead, wondering how a bird could be so sad when it had wings with which to fly.

"Hey, Sora… Sora, c'mon, don't you agree with me?" Kairi suddenly shot the brunette an almost pleading look.

"Iunno, d'you want me to?"

"Don't be like that," Kairi whined.

Roxas laughed, wiggling his toes.

"Ugh, Mr. Grumpy… don't you get tired of having your hair in your face all the time?" Kairi bounced to a new subject.

The boys all blinked, not really registering her question.

Then realization dawned upon them.

Before Riku could grumble a quick "no," Kairi was taking his shiny silver hair and tying it back into a ponytail with a yellow scrunchie she'd had around her wrist.

"You have such pretty hair… you should take better care of it, you know?"

Riku silently shrugged her off. She pouted slightly, fussing with Riku's silvery locks, and started to braid it. All the while Riku gave a menacing 'I'm going to grind your bones into fine powder' glare. It was enough to make Sora uneasy.

"Okay, I think that's enough, Kai." Sora smiled weakly in her direction. Kairi blinked, as if she hadn't been aware that she'd even been bothering Riku, and scooted back over to Sora.

"Gimme some of your sunscreen," she demanded of him, and they both laughed.

Roxas looked over his shoulder, checking to see whether or not his aunt had come back—something seemed to be bothering him, Riku observed. So Riku looked at him a long time, staring into his beautiful blue eyes.

Tiffany returned, umbrella secured firmly under her arm, looking slightly more triumphant than she had before. Riku didn't want Tiffany to frown solely for the sake of keeping things… "free of change". Free of charge, free of change—a rather interesting motto to live by. Riku wrapped his arms around his knees, watching Roxas' aunt; Roxas had practically sprung from his seat to help her, leaving the silver-haired teen by himself.

Kairi took the little green pale and the blue and red plastic shovels, a very determined look on her face. The bucket hung limply from her thin wrist. "I'mma go build me some sandcastles. Who's coming with me?"

"Of course, me," Sora pointed to himself, batting his eyelashes and looking mock important. Kairi swatted at him with a giggle.

In between fighting with the umbrella Tiffany answered, "I was thinking about taking a walk down the shore, actually..."

"I'll come with you," Roxas added just a little bit too seriously. Even Riku showed the slightest hint of concern.

"So it's settled, then!" Kairi clapped her hands together, blue eyes sparkling. "Me and Sora will go make castles," before Riku could get a word in edge-wise she hastily added, "with _Riku_ of course… and you two lovers can have some alone time." The redhead offered a sly wink, to which Tiffany responded to with a childish raspberry, pulling down her eyelid.

Kairi offered the equivalent of a 'nyah-nyah' and Roxas gave her 'the look'.

It was quiet for a moment, but it didn't take long to set up the umbrella.

Each of them looked from one face to another.

"Let's _go_," Kairi whined. "I'm tired of sitting around."

So, Sora and Kairi both dragged the silver-haired teen to his feet, and away they went.

* * *

**Author's note: **This was supposed to be a really, really long chapter. I decided it was for the best, however, to split it into two separate ones. So… review if you enjoyed (or even if you didn't). Stay safe!

And expect an update in about three weeks (maybe less).


	5. Landlocked Blues

**Disclaimer: **I own stuff, just not Kingdom Hearts. Lyrics used here are © Blue October.

**Author's note:** I got seriously burnt out… and the reason an update didn't come to you sooner is because I wrote a whole bunch of something… which ended up really being nothing. So I wrote this chapter over again, knowing that it was ultimately the right thing to do. Hope that's all right with you folks.

**P.S.** Please go read and review **Aoi Para**'s stuff. It'd mean a lot to me.

* * *

**Black Orchid**

'Landlocked Blues'

"…Riiiku-wa."

"That's annoying; quit it, won't you?"

There was an extended silence that hung in the air, doing nothing but taking up space – wasting precious atmospheric containment – like some kind of sick, sloppy blanket. But it wasn't really silent, either. There were waves gushing, frothing against the sandy shore… there were those ever-cliché gulls mourning the loss of bread tossed out to shore. Riku could hear Kairi's stick (one she'd picked up from earlier) just scraaaaaaping across sand, drawing a few ridiculous scratches with exaggerated, mock-artistic gestures. Riku wasn't quite sure if it quite qualified as Picasso… or stick figure. Picasso-figure?

"I have to make up for Sora's absence somehow," the girl mused, drawing two oval shaped eyes too far up on the figure's forehead. Was that was she called art? Her sad, obnoxious form of entertainment that she narrated with each needless detail. (You are going to have a big nose, Kairi said. Riku wondered if she had been indicating the features of her future children.)

_Yeah, but Sora isn't annoying._

Riku's eyes lowered, scanning individual grains of sand, inspecting the little particles of would-be, could-be glass. Sora loved the water. He just bathed in it, reveled in it, adored it so very fucking much; it seemed to adore him back, to revel in him, to bathe him willingly like some sort of strange mating ritual. And Sora was off diving in the waves, swimming through the folds of the ocean, overcoming the angry waves like those happy selkie in folklore. Sora the fish. Sora the seal. Sora the… merman. The thoughts weren't quite enough to turn the corners of Riku's lips into a smile, but had come damn near close to it. The sky had to be in love with the water, else… how could sunny days at the beach ever exist? Earth, sky, water… three friends matched together for a literary sense of ironic, symbolic perfection. Riku had to scoff at that; he could not make nice with the earth as much as he could not make nice with the girl sitting next to him. There could be no truce involved—they would have to settle it with a white flag of surrender or a hooting, hollering massacre of peace. One could give up or be drawn and quartered, in a sense.

"He really likes you," Kairi added slowly, rather out of the blue, a hint of melancholy curling around the edges of her perfectly formed words. She'd abandoned her stick (and more or less her drawing) in favor of something more delicate—something more beautiful. In her dainty hands she held a seashell, running one small thumb down its many ridges. Her eyes had turned to the water, blue gaze searching for the boy with brown spikes for hair.

"I don't," Riku answered defensively, suddenly burying his feet in the wet sand, eyes instinctively trained downward.

_Feet, you are interesting. You give me excuses to look when there's nothing there._

The funny thing (or perhaps it was terribly not-so-funny) was that Sora hadn't even crossed his mind at first.

"Wh-what? What d'you mean?" Kairi blinked; it would have been an outright, obvious lie to say she had been expecting that response. In fact, she had been so _not_ expecting that response that it left her mouth stupidly hanging open, agape like she was practicing catching flies. Like she were some sort of voracious predator. Ha, _Kairi_ a voracious predator. Kairi _any_ sort of predator whatso_ever_. Ha. Ha, ha, ha. She slowly twisted her body to face Riku's, black lashes fluttering in another series of dumbfounded blinks.

_What do I mean? What do you think I mean? I mean I'm Abraham Lincoln, Kairi. Abraham fucking Lincoln, ever heard of him?_

"I mean I don't… d-o-n-apostrophe-t. English, you know?" He didn't look up. What reason did he have to look up? If he had it wouldn't have made a difference, really – Kairi's expression hardly changed.

"You're lying." She inched closer, inspecting his body language with the eye of a private investigator. And at that Riku flinched; the hairs on his arms took an almost-life of their own, an unnoticeable shiver coursing down his spine, jittering his nervous system. He had to look away, silver wisps of hair splashing over pale cheeks, aqua eyes developing an uncharacteristic nervousness about them.

xxx

"_It's just not working anymore."_

"_Somebody else?"_

"_The distance… I mean, I thought that…"_

_Riku thought he understood; Riku thought he could be an adult, too._

xxx

"I'm a terrible liar; you'd know if I was." Riku inched backward for every inch she moved forward, eyes slightly narrowed. He'd lost sight of Sora because of this intricate little… sideways dance. It was something like a crabwalk to the soft tune of waves on waves. The redhead didn't seem to notice; she was the intruding flat note ruining a beautifully orchestrated piece.

Kairi reached out an arm, grabbing the ornery teenager by the wrist; suddenly she straddled him, her hands pressing down against his slim, toned chest. Riku didn't remember how he'd allowed himself to get in such a position. It was like a bleak spring morning, fog blinding the edges of his eyes. Delirium served its purpose, causing him to blink just as Kairi had before – the beautifully intelligent boy was reduced to nothing more than a dumb animal with bright, scared eyes.

Yes, Riku could get scared. Really, really fucking scared.

"Does Riku-wa like girls, hn…?"

Before he could respond with a faint, stuttered 'n-no', her mouth was on his… kissing, tasting. Riku still had the faint sweetness of juice lingering on his lips, and Kairi decided to rid him of that 'problem' by sucking it away. Just like a leech. Just like a really horrifying illness. She didn't realize that, in this case, _she_ was the problem. And all at once Riku decided that he really couldn't like Sora if he had friends like Kairi. Friends who had problems invading personal bubbles. Friends who…

Kairi found herself having fallen with a _thud_ into the sand, clutching her abdomen with a howling strain of 'oooooooooowwwwwww', and had left Riku to pick himself up to a sitting position, head to his knees. Riku had shoved the girl off with a viciousness he didn't seem capable of, leaving her reeling in shock and pain.

The aftereffects of the awkward situation sat in Riku's stomach like lead, threatening to crush his internal organs. For a moment he hadn't been able to tell Kairi apart from Hayner, and in his confusion had reacted violently. Oh, how the silver-haired boy was so appallingly, wretchedly… _beautifully_ broken. Pale hands came up to clutch at a pained head; he could faintly hear Kairi's ragged breathing returning to normal.

"_Where_ do you get off—oh…" Kairi had begun to raise a fist and rant at the boy, just verbally tear him limb from limb, but had dropped it once her will to reprimand him faded; she'd caught sight of his pitiful, recoiled state and it had bewildered her enough to stop her in her verbal tracks.

"You hurt me and you're the one that gets to cry?" despite the offensive question, her voice remained soft. Almost threateningly soft. Threateningly, accusingly soft, like an old smoky memory lost in the cobwebs of your mind. Like some old, nostalgic, aching thing that just injects feelings straight into your loving organ. No, your _heart_.

"I'm not crying." It was all defensive again and again, shields up like some sort of goalie in a hockey game. Riku had eaten puck far too many times for his comfort; these lurid things just, just…

"Don't be like that." It seemed a strange demand coming from such a small, pretty source. Kairi suited her hands on her hips, acting indignant as if she really had something to be indignant _about_.

"What should I be like, then?" Riku mumbled into his aching legs, irritation swelling in the pronunciation of his words. It curled like sweet poison around his tongue, oozing out of his mouth like sour maple syrup. It was a miserable sight to see, the teenager bundled up in himself, quietly crumbling away.

His question passed over toward the ocean, going forever unanswered. There were just some things that didn't need a response… or was it just the fact that there weren't adequate enough words to form a sagely enough reply to such ambiguous statements? Just any synonym wouldn't do – a word borrowed from a thesaurus for the low price of only ninety-nine cents. Where was the sense in _that_?

"I have a girlfriend," Kairi announced off-handedly, allowing the question to further smolder in its fading glory. A forgotten beach ball frolicked in the waves, destroying another seven-year-old's day at the beach. "And I don't want to _be_ with you, Ri-ku. But Sora _does_… and I'm willing to make the both of us miserable if you _don't_. D-o-n-apostrophe-t. 'Cause I can spell, too."

"That's bold of you," Riku replied, hands dropping slack at his sides. The anxiety from before had transformed, collaborated with something else—now it was turning into a sense of budding dislike for the redhead. She reiterated his statement—echoed it back at him, in fact, with such a haughty tone that it threatened to make Riku ill. And it made Riku think about his home again. And it made Riku think about the inky black days back with his mom, those splashes of dust that lay on old photos… And Kairi reminded him of a woman gone mad with ideals and Romanticism. Kairi reminded him of--

"I'm serious, Riku. I'll like… I'll break your arms if you say no to him."

"I…

"He'll ask you… 'cause he's stupid and romantic and he _loves_ the beach… and he's just… he's _Sora_. Don't play around with him… don't lead him on." Kairi pointed to her heart, placing her palm over her left breast. "Sora's special to me… crush his heart and I'll crush your face."

Riku sat in silence, barely lifting his head. His feet wiggled half-heartedly in the sand, his lackadaisical, dull gaze cast over at the many rocks adorning the edges of the water. Kairi had a stupid way with words—she tried to sound smart and endearing, but it just didn't _work_. At least there was sincerity. If nothing else, there had to be sincerity. Maybe he could deal with the idea… maybe for just a little while.

"Okay, Riku-wa?" Kairi was back to smiling, her girlish bounciness returning. It was odd, the transition, because it wasn't truly a transition at all. She just smiled… smiled, smiled, smiled like the whole thing had never happened. Like the taste of her tongue didn't cling faintly to his tastebuds.

"Mm," was the best answer she was going to get out of Riku. He reminded Kairi of a sloth, and that comparison nearly made her laugh. Solemnity hung on Riku's fingertips, nipping faintly like termites. "Mm," he repeated. But as long as he didn't say no, she took it as an agreement.

In a way, it almost could have been.

At that time, it almost was.

"How about those sandcastles?"

xxx

"Hey, Riku…"

"Mm?" Always that damn mm, like whatever someone had asked or said just tasted _delectable_ in his mouth. But it wasn't uncommon, and he never meant it like that. Just a noise, nothing more.

Kairi had flounced away, "leaving the two love birds to be together," and the two were busy constructing buildings out of sand. Kairi stretched out on her towel by Tiffany's newly bought umbrella, shamelessly absorbing the sun's rays. Direct UV can cause skin cancer, Riku wanted to say (but quite obviously never worked up the nerve to mutter). He'd coveted his alone time, anyway, and… Kairi was just getting in his way. She was this… obnoxious, peppy, yet altogether too _sad_ obstacle. It made his head hurt. It made his brain ache. It made his stomach swell with violent, quaking whatever-the-hell-Kairi-made-him-feel.

"I…"

_He's going to ask… now?_

"Did you know that every day, ninety-six people are killed by drunk drivers?"

Riku blinked, tilting his head, examining the moist sand under his feet and hands and in the crevices of his nail beds. Sora's statement had taken him aback, writing little line of surprise within the folds of his brain and the delicate patches of skin on his face. _He's giving me… statistics?_

Sora didn't continue because Riku didn't respond. The silver-haired teen was too distracted by drawing faint semblances of stick figures near his overturned-bucket-for-a-castle. They weren't much, though they were prettier than Kairi's. Riku never had a knack for drawing, really—it just wasn't something he'd been gifted with, they said. He was just too smart for that. Doubtful, Riku had had to shrug his shoulders. He always knew he was nothing special, nothing to write home about, and Leon proved that. Sora seemed to just understand that he was just… simple. Just Riku. And they whittled away time, the sun beating mercilessly on their backs, Sora's wordless melodies drifting on the ocean breeze. But really… really there was no time. There could never be time. There were just atoms and space and mass and…

"Did you know that our existence is measured by how much mass we take up on the earth's surface?" Riku asked, reaching down to scratch absently at his calf. The world was a place of happiness and joy… of tragedies and heartbreak. The world was a place comprised of people and things that didn't exist. Dreams, wishes, hopes, fears, thoughts—so much brilliance lost to the wind. Just because the world existed, and people reached for tangible things… because what the world was composed of could never be quantified or put on a scale.

"Huh?" Sora looked up, curious, wondering if he'd missed something.

"In the end, everything is just the same. The sand, the sea, the sky… everything. You, me… the entire world. Just atoms and strings of DNA and wavelengths and…"

The cry of gulls overhead, so close they nearly hit Sora, drowned out the last of his words. Sora finished playing with the sand, crafting his castle into some sort of sand lizard, observing it with a contemplative frown. As if it were supposed to come alive… sing and dance and say "Happy birthday!" As if it were supposed to explain the life, the universe, and everything. And with Riku's logic, it could have been possible. If everything was the same, then… then Sora's sand lizard very well could have come alive. As for the singing, though—Sora hoped that he wouldn't share the same voice. Because, really… the reptile wouldn't ever get hired for anything.

"No wonder you fell off that roof."

There was a delicate, intricate pause.

"I mean… if I was up there, sitting and thinking about _that_… I'd want to fall, too." Sora raised a hand, poking his skull with his index finger a couple of times. "It'd hurt my head… and stuff like that." His lazy grin graced his features, half-closed eyes hooded by long lashes, gaze focused languidly on Riku. Despite the screaming and excitement going on around them, Sora remained quietly at peace.

Riku thought about it a long while, staring into Sora's half-revealed blue eyes. He had a way of dismissing things that made the world actually seem _real_ and vibrant and colorful. He had a way of saying, just with the way he held himself, "hey, everything's going to be okay." And some moments Riku wanted to believe him. People could have said that he was just looking for an excuse to believe anything, though. To cling to the first idea that mattered. But that was all wrong. At that point Riku really did, deep in his bruise of an organ they called a heart, crave for the easygoing philosophies Sora seemed to have going for him.

"Tigger."

Sora remembered the nickname, tilting his head as a way of acknowledging the boy across from him. Strands of brown hair whispered against his pretty face, the sun catching bits of golden pieces that lent to the belief that maybe Sora had been a blonde once.

"There was this girl I used to know…" for a moment Riku lost his story, but Sora waited patiently for what his friend would follow up with. It was a long, insufferable silence, but it didn't seem to matter. Sora dared to label the irascible, moody Riku as his friend, and that was more than any pause was worth.

"We'd get together at the races and we'd… just talk. Talk a whole hell of a lot. Talk about stupid shit that didn't matter, but we didn't care so long as it kept us talking." Riku threaded his fingers together, his eyes finding his feet. It was instinct, habit.

"A couple months later, this girl… just up and dies. I saw her mom at the races once—I didn't know what to say…so I just… I just never went again." A crinkle developed in the silver-haired boy's forehead, illustrating for a moment the distress that tugged on his tear ducts.

Sora seemed hesitant to say something, unsure whether Riku had finished or not. It had just been so… short. Simple, easy, free. He just couldn't formulate two-bit, second-rate sentences in his mind. All the words in his head were as scrambled as green eggs and ham. He exhaled slowly, listening to the faint nagging of overprotective mothers. The second long, awkward pause between them was enough time for the brunette to gather up his shattered thoughts, however, and to manage at least a monosyllable reply.

"Ri…" Because he hadn't really been educated on how to respond to a recitation of a disaster. Because what Riku had just explained couldn't really be considered a disaster but just a sad, delicate thing. Because everything he mulled over in his mind sounded fake and forced and stupid. I'm sorry. No, he wasn't… it wasn't his fault. But on some strange level, he was sorry… sorry for Riku and his poor, nameless friend. Sorry for the girl's relatives… sorry about everything and nothing. Sora didn't want to be sorry. Riku didn't want Sora to be sorry. It wasn't the point.

"Life's short, Sora. It's so short that it's the longest fucking thing you'll ever do, but…" Riku was looking at Sora again, aqua eyes seeming to be alight. It had been the first time Riku showed some sort of emotion other than boredom or disgust; it was vaguely surprising to the blue-eyed boy staring back at him. It was like a closed clam suddenly revealing a beautiful, brilliant pearl before quickly snapping shut again. Clams didn't really do that, did they?

"I know I ruined your plan and Kairi said you wanted to ask me but… things aren't perfect. I don't _want_ them to be perfect. So just _ask_." Riku drew in a breath, feeling as if stabbed by his inhalation. Stabbed through the ribs and just below his heart, tortured with a dagger carved from bones. Stabbed by the stupid way he'd just fumbled with what he wanted to say and dropped it carelessly on the floor. And the sound ringing in his ears from that mishap was like the clattering of silverware against marble.

Metaphorically speaking, Sora had left Riku out in the cold, hanging on a breaking limb. The silence around them swallowed Riku whole, deflecting all other noise.

Riku thought he was going to be deaf forever.

"If you wanna fall off any more roofs… I won't stop you. I… can't catch you either, but… for what it's worth, I'd like to at least… fall off with you."

Riku grudgingly thought about Kairi's words, looking at his mediocre sandcastle and then to Sora's hideously, gorgeously blue eyes. Something inside him clenched, closed tightly shut. Something inside him peaked open for just a moment… and then died away. Decisions ran through his head like rabbits galloping in a horse race. Love, in his mind, spilled like a melting popsicle on the pavement of his imagination. Everything inside him died. And died again.

"I'll be with you, Sora."

It was at Kairi's request. It was at his own selfishness at not wanting to see Sora so disastrously heartbroken. It was, vaguely, at the concern of his health. It was for Roxas, maybe. It was for everyone and for no-one that he said those words.

Because everybody has a little bit of nobody in them, one way or another, one time or another.

Sora heaved a heavy sigh—a sigh as huge and overpowering as the hurdling waves in the background—and sat next to the vulnerable, introspective, _stupid_ Riku. His words were nice, reassuring. They made Sora want to think and not think at the same time. And Sora was glad. And Sora didn't know that thoughts of Leon were going through Riku's mind, maybe for one of the last times. It was another thing that was dying inside him, right alongside the notions of love.

xxx

"_So, how'd you two meet?"_

"_You'll laugh!"_

"_C'mon, Riku, I'm not gonna laugh."_

"_You're gonna laugh!"_

"_Just tell me already!"_

"…_fine, but if you laugh…"_

"_I get it, I get it."_

"_So, Leon's in town this one day, visiting with his sister for a month. And you know that little juice place across the street? Well, yeah, of course you do. We get to talking for a bit, and after a week he just says, 'you're cute, Riku. I told my sister we were dating, and…' And at first I thought he was stupid, but…"_

"_Geez, Riku."_

"_What?"_

"_Love really made you stupid, huh? Stupid, stupid Riku."_

"_Oh, can it, blondie."_

"_Riku and Leon, sittin' in a tree…"_

xxx

There had been a lot of laughing, wrestling, and growling in the memory, thought it seemed to be a fond one nonetheless. Just Riku and Roxas, teenagers in a land of mud and sad music and school rumors. He recalled that he'd never finished his story, but that seemed all right. Roxas didn't need to know the ridiculous details. But, in a way, Riku almost wanted him to. Almost…

Sora intruded on the recollection with a little murmur of something Riku only faintly caught, ears straining to pick up the syllables.

"Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall."

Riku forced himself to snake an arm around Sora's thin waist—it was almost as if a foreign action to him now, like solving a physics equation when he hadn't picked up a math book in years. It was just… awkward, out of place. The words weren't Sora's, Riku knew. "Like quotes?" came the lilting question.

"Love quotes," Sora answered. "You can thank Confucius for that one."

_Good old Confucius._

xxx

"Thanks for driving us up here. I know—it was long and boring, and…" Roxas trailed off into a sea of half-apologies, voice filtered through some sort of contrite machine. Roxas was sorry; he was sorrier than sorry, and even _more_ sorry that sorry was just such a weak word. He wanted his apologies to mean something more, to be heartfelt and awe-inspiring and… again with the trailing off of thought.

"You kept me entertained," Tiffany mused softly; though, those four little words had surprised Roxas. She had seemed bored and irritated the whole ride, even adopting some hints of Riku's mannerisms. It worried her nephew, made him far beyond anxious or nervous. Riku saw the anxiety but spoke nothing of it, preferring to let his eyes speak their solemn...regret, was it? Riku was hardly sorry for anything—there just weren't things worth being sorry over in this life.

The tide tugged at the shore, lurching forward to caress the sand again, wrapping like vines around their tanned feet. Tiffany shivered, crossing her arms over her chest; chilly water was a heartrending, wretched understatement. More like brilliant shards of ice prickling at her skin with every step she took.

"It's cold," Roxas stated the obvious with somewhat of a wince, regarding the beach behind blue sunglass-covered eyes. _I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can…_

"A little," Tiffany responded, barely sidestepping a doodle—it was going to be washed away by the water soon enough, anyway. But wasn't it better to leave the delicate, pretty things as they were as long as they would last? She needed to preserve the good things in life.

"I need to talk to you," Roxas announced rather matter-of-factly, a certain gloom hanging heavy on his tongue. It was thicker than blood or saliva, the dreadful anticipation building up like calcium deposits on each slowly formed word. He'd been uncertain of how exactly to rearrange his thoughts, but had settled in the end for something vague and ambiguous.

"I figured. About what?"

Roxas skipped over a frisbee that had been suction-cupped to the sand; it was green. Green like green, green algae. Or green, green grass. Or… the color green, if you had to go that way.

But maybe it was the green of bright, bright limes.

"What else?" Roxas paused. "Riku," he clarified, gesturing pointlessly with a small sense of fluidity.

"Riku?" Tiffany inquired.

"Yeah." It was the only response Roxas could manage. He could have tried harder, of course, but it was as if his brain had been quite literally… shut off. He could breathe but not think, and everything looked so suddenly warped. It only lasted for one fleeting, unfamiliar moment before then slinking off into the distance.

Children screamed, giddy and excited upon being pounded with wave after wave. Roxas issued a soft laugh, entertained by the youth and their tactics of staving off boredom. Sora was like that—Kairi was like that, too. Both children trying to get the next best thrill out of things.

Riku, though, seemed to think things were just as they would always be and nothing more—just things, simple things. He didn't want to bother thinking much farther beyond that. It puzzled Roxas, honestly; it'd always been a quirk of Riku's that he could never quite figure out. He'd been like that from their very first hello.

"Why?" Tiffany sounded curious, concerned. She kicked away a pebble, a frown creasing her pretty features. She looked just, just like Roxas.

"Just 'cause… I really don't know how to say this, but…"

"But what?"

"It's gonna sound stupid," Roxas murmured, stopping a moment to examine the expanse of water yawning about before him, stretching out for miles and miles and miles… seeming like forever and ever and ever.

"Oh, babe, c'mon. Try me." She extended her hand, tangling it in his blonde spikes, ruffling and mussing his perfectly styled hair. They just needed some loosening up, didn't they?

Roxas' lower lip jutted out in an imitation of Sora's pout, though failed miserably. He swatted her hand away somewhat playfully, but after a short laugh returned to his previous, stoic state of being. State of being… like a state of being verb? He scratched idly at the back of his neck, making a face; he was becoming just like a picture perfect replica of Riku's mannerisms. Sometimes his friend could be so painfully boring and draining… and there were instances where Roxas just plain _hurt_ at being shooed away by him—it was clear as day that Riku was lonelier than the word lonely itself.

"What do you think is going to happen when… we all go back to school? You know… I'm not sure if he'll even stay sometimes."

"Huh." Tiffany patted his shoulder, looking out at all the boats on the water. They were all on journeys, voyages… ("Bon voyage!") little toys that would drift into glass bottles and admired by fathers. Tiffany always thought there was something majestic about the water, about this silly idea of an adventure out at sea. There was something, though…. This damn something that always kept her feet at shore. She forgot the thought with a shrug, afterwards promptly nudging Roxas' back. They started walking again, leaving little footprints on the sand with their dainty feet. Yes, Roxas took after his aunt in the aspect, too. "I guess there's really no answer for that, Rox. Unless you want to ask him?"

Roxas seemed not to hear her, wrapped inside his own head, ensnared in his own Shakespearean monologue. It was apparent with the way he just seemed to continue talking, verbally plowing her down with his unwonted sense of insecurity. He nodded to seem as if he'd acknowledged her.

"I mean, he might wanna go back to his parents' house and… I'd have to move, too, I guess. But I don't know if I'd want to move again."

"Your mom doesn't really like the fact that you're staying with me. I'm sure she'd want you to come back, too."

"I know, I know… but ugh, I just don't know, you know?"

"Roxas…"

"Eh, yeah, I know… too much of the same word in one sentence."

Tiffany patted his little bum, an affectionate gesture that didn't seem weird solely for the reason that she was Tiffany. "Yeah. I'd be all… taking out the drawing board and making plans for a kidnapping."

"And I'd be all… 'no, don't, stop'."

"Haha, yeah." Tiffany grinned, her gaze finding a wall made of rocks, interest suddenly piquing in her. "I don't think Riku will go, though. He's too lazy for that, you know?"

"Yeah," Roxas responded, though seemed more than just a little uncertain.

"Sometimes… I wish I could slap him and hug him all at the same time." Tiffany surveyed the sky for a solemn moment, stopping in her tracks before continuing on as if she'd never stalled at all.

"Mm," came Roxas' insightful reply. "You wanna sit on the rocks for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure."

xxx

_Who… am I kidding? I'm not cut out for this sort of thing. I never meant to say yes. I never wanted to end up like this… pathetic trophy avoiding the throes of misery, combating it with copious amounts of spite. I wasn't supposed to end up like some half-dead poet hanging on the arm of someone who actually appreciates life._

"D'you ever wonder what it'd feel like if there were no ground beneath our feet?" It sounded like an oddly sagely thing for a bouncy redheaded girl to be suddenly inserting into the conversation.

Riku wasn't listening.

_I'm just a boy who thinks about the color yellow all day. I'm just a boy who can't appreciate his mother. I'm just a boy that should never be loved._

"Wouldn't we all be flying, then?" Tiffany asked.

_When the fuck did you get so emo, Riku? Ugh, you're pissing me off. I'm pissing me off._

"No, I think we'd all just fall…"

Fall, fall, fall…

xxx

"Hey, Ri?" A nudge to Riku's shoulder caused him to flinch, blinking, shattering his spellbound daze. "Ri, you all right?"

Riku swallowed, reaching up to feel the back of his head, fingers fiddling with the yellow abomination that tied his hair back. Didn't they just know he abhorred it like the searing rays of hot sun boiling on his back—so much that it made him wince? A light up and down gesture of his head meant, 'yes, Roxas, I'm just as dandy as a peach. Or was it a dandelion? Who really gives a fuck anyway.'

Sora and Kairi had walked back to the car together, sharing a very hushed conversation on the way. The brunette had generously offered to return to the vehicle and grab some aspirin for Riku's throbbing head; Sora had pet his hair and attempted to soothe him, but Riku just craved drugs more than little forms of affection. Anything to make the pain disappear.

"Do you ever think about leaving here?" Roxas looked to Tiffany, and Riku gave Roxas a sideways glance. He wanted to answer half-heartedly with a snarky, 'What, the beach?' but for some reason just couldn't find the energy.

"No. What do I have to go back for, Rox, honestly?" Riku didn't mention Simon because it was just this oozing, pus-infected sore of his. He left his brother alone with Julia. Of course, their dad was there… but he was even more spineless than a jellyfish. Was that even possible?

"I don't know, I just thought…"

"Well stop thinking it, okay?"

Tiffany appeared almost… distraught, reaching out a foot to poke Riku's thigh with. "Hey, hey now boys. No fighting, yeah?"

Riku looked away. Roxas looked up. It seemed ill timing for such a strange tune.

"_I'm just a normal boy who sank when I fell overboard… my ship would leave the country, but I'd rather swim ashore."_

Sora… singing again. Sora the wondrous, talented singing fish. If only he could be sold and put up on a plaque and hung in Riku's living room as a centerpiece. Every time a visitor would pass by, his pale blue, dead lips would open in some disgusting dirge. Well wasn't that just a grotesque metaphor?

Sora was… well, for one, he was just too fucking humble. And for two… for two he was sweet and sad and happy and nervous and clumsy all at the very same time. Not only did it confuse Riku, it just… well, he didn't even _know_. And that was the trouble in it, really.

"In a couple hours we'll be leaving," Tiffany announced, and Kairi's head seemed to bob up and down quite enthusiastically.

Sora, once close enough, knelt down beside Riku, coming with a peace offering. Four Advil and a juice box, in fact. That, to Riku, was peace in one of its finest forms. He accepted the imaginary truce, allowing Sora to make a place for himself in the sand to his right. Leaning into Sora's rather comfy shoulder (it was _damn_ comfy, okay?), Riku downed the pills like Marilyn Monroe and sipped weakly at his… High-C, was it? Some ridiculously sugar-filled, artificial crap that ran down his throat like a bad, burning, fructose leak in a sink. It was okay, though.

"I think I'm up for a nap," murmured Sora, tentatively running slender fingers down Riku's spine. Riku tilted his head, eyes barely moving. He stared down at Kairi's small, cute feet with little focus. Roxas carried a light conversation with Tiffany, but for the life of Riku he couldn't really remember what happened next.

Maybe he dozed off; maybe he'd simply forgotten because the memory didn't particularly suit his liking, but… the next thing he knew he was hanging on Roxas' arm and they were making their way to the car. But he'd left important things behind, those memories in the last hours… but mostly he could only pick out snippets.

xxx

"_Hey, Ri, talk with me…?"_

"_What?"_

"_You look all hot and bothered."_

"_That's a stupid cliché."_

"_What?"_

"_It's stupid."_

"_Don't change the subject."_

"_I'm with Sora now."_

"_You're…"_

"_With Sora now."_

"_I heard you the first time, but I… you're going to get hurt, Ri."_

"_I know."_

"_Well…"_

"_Hayner called."_

"_What."_

"_Hayner--"_

"_What'd he say?"_

"_Nn. I'll tell you tomorrow." _

_It was time to go – time to leave this stupid beach behind._

xxx

The conversation had vanished from his memory like a spider down a drainpipe, gushing through sewage. It had been a long day. A long, tiring fucking day, and now it was dusk and the van's interior was covered with remnants of their little escapade. Their sandy asses took residence in the seats, and after they'd all stopped to eat, they began their voyage home. The silver-haired teen could remember staring at Kairi for the longest moment, into her eyes, because she just had had this stupid look on her face. He could remember Roxas fiddling with the radio, Tiffany's unwonted silence, and Sora gently, affectionately scratching his scalp.

But Riku could never be the same. Somewhere in his memory he recalled Sora whispering something about this guy called Jim Rohn. Riku, he said. The walls we build around us to keep out the sadness also keep out the joy.

Riku knew it was another one of those quotes Sora seemed so fond of. Though, at that time… at that time it really never made sense.

At that time.

Roxas fixed the station so that it played something Riku had never heard before – the last thing he remembered hearing was, "…gotta try, to keep her dry, run out of ways…"

And he fell asleep slowly, carefully to Sora's humming.

* * *

**Author's note:** So, okay, this is starting to get back on track, aren't you proud of me? I think it's kind of a throwback to the obscurity of the first chapter. We will really delve into things later and get into the plot more extensively – exciting, no? School's out for me…. An update will come when an update feels like coming, unless you'd rather me update quickly with mediocre prose. Which I refuse to do anymore (a la chapter four; ew, sorry guys, that'll be edited sometime later), so that's out of the question anyway.

Would you care to leave me a lil' review on your way out?


	6. Little Pieces

**Disclaimer:** By now it's obvious I own nothing. Just for the sake of reiteration, however—I only claim the writing.

**Author's note:** So. Lack of reviews equals an unmotivated Stu. An unmotivated Stu equals no updates for over a year. Choose your actions wisely.

And in case you were wondering (since I know one lovely person was)… it's Axel time.

Excited?

Me too.

**Black Orchid**

'Little Pieces'

Choking on the heaving of his labored heart, gasping pants left the chasm of Riku's lips. Fingers slashed through water, forearms and biceps slapping it in some sort of peculiar, overeager greeting. Again and again his muscles met with the strange, chlorinated water--just congealed chemicals that conglomerated to make some sort of 'clean swimming environment'. Fuck that. Fuck this. No lifeguard on duty, public pool deserted; it was his only chance to get away. Sora had only left for a minute—to grab some ice cream, he'd said. Riku had opted to wait on a bench, supposedly… and then strayed like a lost duckling to the sight of water washing over his peripheral vision. Unnatural, unhealthy liquid. The silver-haired teen took idiocy to a new level by choosing to dive in.

The words cripple, deathly allergic, and fatal consequences meant nothing to him. The water was icy, cool, fresh against his skin, offering pleasant respite from the blistering heat. It was an ice bath to his pallid flesh, and kicking his legs soon became an impossible task.

Spur of the moment, notoriously Riku, he'd decided to swim—to fucking swim for his _life_ with just the force of his arms. He hadn't counted on the deterioration of strength in his limbs; the consideration that he might sink and drown and suffocate had leaked out the spongy passage of his brain and onto the sickeningly hot pavement. Nevertheless, the adamant pessimist had completed three entire laps, his chest racing with the effort, his sick stomach bobbing from his abdomen to his esophagus with every pained breath he took. Droplets sprayed all around the concrete, the pool disturbed from one end to the other; he could clearly see the bubbles from his trail when he submerged, submitting to what felt like a completely blanketed, watery coffin.

And then, clawing at the water that encompassed his pale body, he sunk. Because there seemed no more powerful a description than one as simple and easily comprehended as: he sunk.

But the complexity of the situation gave rise to raw human nature. Much as those around him tended to view him as manically suicidal, his desperately flailing arms proved (in a rather undignified manner) otherwise. To place the blame on sheer instinct would be three parts true and one part false—how could one lack the will to live and still cling to the intangible fibers of life? The instance of the roof solidified the fact that he was above cowardly… though at the same time gave way to an entire legacy of Riku's stupidity.

Asphyxiation felt worse than being knocked breathless—an eerie, _knowing_ feeling of death tangled itself in Riku's intestines, whispering half-faced lies and final declarations of love in the spaces of bubbles that gushed from his open, gawking mouth. This was it. This was… it? He never counted on Sora finding him, didn't think he'd track his trail in time. He had no visions of being rescued by such a scrawny, boyish figure. And because this town was no backdrop for a fancy cinematic experience, Sora didn't. The last of the air left Riku's purpling lungs as he drifted towards the pool's bottom, legs uselessly attempting to use the solid surface to propel his struggling body towards air.

Melodrama aside, things didn't work out for Riku. Things… just had a _way_ of making a point not to work out for the sore, ego-bruised cynic. Not to say that he didn't seem to have a _contest_ with such things, goading them on and forcing them upon himself as if prodding a snake with a stick. But, well--you get the point.

Being drowned—crushed by so many pounds of water so callously—made any pair of strangling human hands feel piteously ineffective in comparison. Hope blurred his stinging eyes, air passages closing in response to the chemicals. Shit. Time to die?

Not yet, the universe seemed to answer in the strange form of skinny arms dragging him back to the outside world. We've yet to finish mocking you, it added as a rasping, choking gasp pierced his chest and he was guided carefully to the shallow end of the pool. His eyes burned in the exposure to air, body wracked with violent shudders of something akin to fear. And being thrown out of the pool and onto a highly uncomfortable plastic chair was the best feeling Riku had experienced all day. A smattering of water sprayed across concrete, hitting it with a wet _smack_. Droplets slid down Riku's face and past his gasping mouth, air being sucked in and agonizingly forced out.

"Fuck me sideways and upside _down_, kid! Can't you _read_? Is there a brain in that thick _skull_ of yours?" Bright green eyes flashed dangerously, concerned anger swelling in his chartreuse-colored irises. "Fuck. Lifeguard _off_ duty mean anything to you? Jesus fucking _Christ_, you coulda _drowned_."

Around his closing throat Riku managed a delirious and bewildered, "_Axel?_" that stopped the torrent of verbal attacks coming his way. The onslaught momentarily stilled, a flurry of blinks replacing it.

"Fuck me with the Pope's _cock_, Riku!" It was more than an exclamation—bigger, better, more explosively, mind-numbingly terrifying. "Fuuuck me _hard_, you're allergic to chlorine, you deplorable ass for brains." The lanky redhead hastily hauled the dripping teenager to his feet, dragging him with utmost swiftness to the showers, curses spewing from his pale lips at the speed of light. Riku could deal with the reprimands, the swearing, the insults… but the familiar feel of those hands holding him up tightly, frantically, as natural water poured over the both of them, ate away at any sense of calm Riku pretended to have. Axel… just a specter in death, a detestable ghost from his past… he couldn't truly reside here now, could he? The coincidence was more than unnerving.

"I'm going to kick your ass so _hard_ into the next universe that not even quantum _physics_ will be able to save it." It was a nervously grated out half-joke, but the sincerity and force of the reality of the statement seemed to hold true. Riku cringed, feeling the blockage in his throat lessen and ease a little, steam curling off his drenched skin, heated droplets rapidly smashing into his body.

Breathing took effort Riku didn't want to put forth, though air wheezed through his lungs against his will, denying him the choice of apathetic laziness. The shower rooms here were graced with vast openness—only a few curtained areas existed for those less… unabashed of society; those curtains were a deep, deep blue in color. Here… well, it hardly mattered whether they were in privacy or otherwise. On two accounts, in fact. Firstly, it was deserted… and secondly? Secondly, the males were both fully clothed, wet fabric clinging to their skin like vacuum-sealed plastic bags.

Axel's lips twitched, unsure whether to offer a queasy smile or plaster his expression with further harried distaste. His once flaming spikes—turned a less noxious shade of red courtesy of the pool—hung in pathetic shame about his face, the proud and majestic points limp and collapsed like a dilapidated heap of a house. His chest rose in time with the beat of a butterfly's wings, gentle yet panicked breaths leaving his lungs in spurts. The frightened redhead clung to the wet teenager as if a lifeline… as if he were the only thing in life worth clinging to. For a split second, then, Riku thought—no, he **swore** that Axel had been the one to nearly perish in the could-have-been frighteningly tragic incident.

Riku's gums burned, mouth incessantly opening to allow air to pass freely through his still anxiety-ridden body. Did he care? Was the aching in his chest borne from the fact that he remained tethered to the worldly realm and all that comprised it? He couldn't answer.

"Why are you still here?" The silver-haired youth finally managed to sputter out. The words rotted in his mouth, and it felt good to spit them away. Like old blood collecting on his tastebuds, pooling in the back of his throat, the inquiry died in all of its stale, lackluster glory. It seared so much more painfully in the recesses of his cranium than when it left his chapped lips—felt like vodka compared to water. Weak. Just fucking weak.

xxx

"_It's not your place."_

"_It is my place…"_

"_Hayner--"_

"_If you say his name once more, the goddamn door will hit your ass so hard--"_

"_Relax, Riku."_

_He shuddered. No, no, no. His every muscle fought the soothing tone Axel's rough voice had suddenly taken on, tensing and bunching in utter refusal to comply._

"_Relax already, damn it.."_

"_Ax." Riku's elbows, which he had been most precariously propped on, gave out. "Shut the fuck up."_

xxx

"Why am I here?" Pause. That sounded so very, very anticlimactic. Axel almost took a moment to feel ashamed of himself. Dry, breathed from his parched mouth, even as his lips still carried the lingering taste of chlorine. He spat, the expectoration landing not an inch from one of Riku's pale feet. "First of all, I just saved your goddamn suicidal ass. A thank you should be in order. You forgetting it was me who helped you after that 'accident'? Damn it, Ri. I'm here because I fucking have business here. You're not in a position to be questioning me."

"I don't want to die, asshole." Riku positively glowered, the steam from the hot shower billowing from his shoulders in an almost comical manner. In a way that betrayed his murderous intent, his glare-as-daggers, flower-withering… Riku-isms.

"God. You're always a kettle already boiled. I have half a mind to want to drag you back to my mother, you know. She'll help you… like last time, when it was bad, with Hayner and…"

Liquid hatred burned and boiled in the teenager's otherwise pathetic green gaze, as fiery as if it had been ruby red. "You don't know shit, Axel."

"It takes one to know one, darling. I know shit when I see it."

Riku forced a laugh. "What the hell."

Axel's rail-thin frame transported the limping teen back to the pool-side after a few long moments of agitated silence. Riku's fingers twitched, mouth twisting unattractively to one side. Silver hair dripped all about his once-muscled form like a thick, wet mop. Axel's noncommittal decision to remain without a response made for an even more tense Riku. Like a bad batch of knotted yarn.

And then, Axel started. Or, at least, he made an _attempt_ at starting, which rather stopped half-way towards its fruition. "You know, I really think--"

Riku would never know what Axel really thought. Instead, an unearthly yowl of _RIKU!_ greeted his perfectly working ears. Which, he not being deaf, meant that the sound was literally catastrophic to his healthy tympanic membrane. Stentorian, even. A cross between an elephant and a wailing platypus. In a rather familiar, much more beautiful voice. By this description, one might suspect Kairi, her red hair just a flurry of locks in the wind as her graceful feet carried her over the pavement. Later, Riku would find that she was the clumsiest girl he'd ever had the disgrace of meeting, but_ now…_ Now, stood Sora, with two melting ice cream cones in each hand, looking more pissed than an obese Maine Coon in the middle of a monsoon. Riku wasn't quite sure how to take the expression, other than with the plain response of, "Uh," hanging open mouth and all, eyebrows undecided on their path—up or down. Aqua eyes caught with his tanned feet, noting a bite mark around his ankle, a freckle right beside it, and a perfectly purple bruise splashed across the surface of his left foot.

What? He didn't even need to speak, to ask _what_? Riku knew better. Riku knew what was on Sora's mind without even have to vomit up the inquiry.

"Riku… where in the—no, _why_ did you…"

"I saw the water, okay? I saw the pool, I saw the signs, it's a million fucking degrees, Sora, and I… it's not what it _looks_ like. I haven't swam since… since I don't know how long, and… I wanted to try, you know? I didn't think anything bad would happen, and…"

If Sora were Kairi, he might have been more reprimanding, condescending. Time and time again, when the silver-haired male would attempt a to equate the two with each other, he'd notice the slight flicker of expression changes, the lilt of a tone implying something slightly different. Even when they seemed most like twins, they remained separate, two entities, two richly different people. Sora was Sora, so he just shook his head violently, raised his left hand, and looked about ready to punch Riku right in his feminine face. And then his hand dropped… an anticlimactic gesture of frustration from the supposed-to-be bouncy brunet.

"You were supposed to sit right _there_, on the bench, I was only gone like _three minutes_. And then, God… God, I start _freaking out_ 'cause you want to go _swimming_ in some… chlorinated public pool? What about the beach? All that water, Ri… it was right _there_."

"I didn't… you don't… you don't get it, I don't expect you to understand, Sora."

"Don't expect me to… or won't even give me the opportunity to do so?"

"Sora."

"Urgh, would you just shut up with that Sora thing! I'm not three years old, I get what you're trying to say, you're just being... _frustrating_."

"I'm sorry, but it's _just--_"

"I think you two just ought to cool off, huh? You have a ride out of here… Sora, is it?' Axel's green eyes drifted toward Sora's pretty, distraught face.

"We came here on the bus, just to visit for a while, and I'm not leaving without Riku, not--"

"Shh, shh. I'll take care of Grouchy McSourpants. Trust me, we have the misfortune of going _way_ back." One side of his lip quirked up in a strange smile. A smile of vipers and toxic waste and radioactive dishonesty. On one hand, it made the brunet feel ill, choked up at the sight. And on the other, his words were so, so... _so_... What they were, Sora couldn't come up with. They sort of just... were. As unpoetic as that sounded. Brown brows furrowed, ice cream dripping down cones and leaking down Sora's hands. Hands that threatened to crush the mildly soggy, slightly crispy wafer goodness.

Riku took a rather defensive stance, and a moment later started rubbing his arms, rivulets of water trickling down his angled face. A wince pinched his features, a foul mixture of shame, disgust, and something oddly forlorn. It was the eyes that made Riku look... dejected, almost. Hiding something.

Riku never told the full story. He lived a half-life, mediocre at best. His body language even lacked in its truth. Always a lie... a lie, a lie, a life... a lying life full of _lies_. But at that point Sora hadn't quite figured that out, hadn't formulated that little answer in his mind. Back then, he just found it a quirk, a sadness, the world's misconception of the poor boy. But Riku couldn't be honest... not all the way. Not ever, ever entirely. And such a disastrous flaw that was. And the questions...

"Yeah, it's true. Axel had the burning desire to want to get in my pants since grade school."

Despondent blue eyes shattered; Sora's stomach tumbled. Why did Riku have to mention that?

"Heh; fancy that. Well, fine, go on. Have fun. Seeya." The melted cone, poor and bruised little thing, was left pushed against Riku's pale chest, and the other male's fingers curled instinctively around it.

And then Sora was gone.

xxx

"You're a real fucker, you know. A genuine asshole. You're just a big, fat, crippled ass face."

Swallow. The tightness, the insecurities, the lies. The blood, the fear... the fear? The _fear_. A grim expression pulled through his features. "You got no manners, fuckhead. Don't make fun of a stupid cripple."

Pause. Red light, green light. Red light. Yellow light, slow down. Stop.

"Why'd you lie to him? That Sora kid?" Axel's piss poor, beat up vehicle parked next to the porch of Tiffany's house. That broken ass air conditioner whirred in its dying breaths, spiting out little wisps of cool air. Riku's eyes closed; Axel looked at him for longer than was warranted. They were melting, maybe. Essentially.

"You really wanna know?" A rhetorical question at its finest. Riku's hand reached blindly for the door handle, clumsily. Then his eyes fluttered open, a low 'mm' gurgling in his throat. Click. Open says Riku. Wish granted. Door open. Proceed with caution.

Silence.

"Because it was easy." Axel's stare was at long last returned, and just as quickly dismissed. From such heights... clambering out of the metal death trap and landing felt like breaking both his legs all over again. He slammed the door... he slammed it with a vicious, ill intent. It took borrowed strength and all the man in him to stagger onward and not scream. Axel watched him a moment, observing his struggle with borrowed time, and put the truck in reverse. The engine sputtered, a hacking smoker's cough. Bony hands tightened around the steering wheel. The screen door smacked shut, bounced back, and clicked closed.

What Riku had said had been a lie.

And Axel, all tight-lipped and wincing and trying to smile, knew it.

Knew it and fed the fire, fueled the deception.

Because it _was_ easy. It was just easier.

xxx

And deception's reprise was such an utterly humorous topic, the swagger of swinging hips brought in what the cat already dragged around town. The green eyes full of burning LSD, of biting acid swirling around listerine, swallow it down and vomit it back up biting sickness. Because the disease lingered in his corneas, licked the lip of his eyelids, nestled into the cute little corners of his tear ducts. The kind of lonely ailment that read sadness for symptoms and heartbreak as the diagnosis. Left untreated, probably... no, maybe, _definitely_ would lead to most unfortunate circumstances... likely involving death. But twenty something year olds don't worry about that sort of thing, do they?

The shack breathed a welcome respite from the pore-clogging, throat-closing humid _hotness_ the blistering atmosphere so kindly bestowed upon him. But the music, oh the music... the red-haired menace always brought it upon himself to question Roxas' taste in tunes. He was the only one who could jab an interjecting _why_? and get away with it. Even a casual, disgusted accusation of deafness seemed endearing in all the sharp, bony lines of Axel's body. Part of his charm... his swearing, infectious, self-loathing and half-egotistical charm. Heads turned upon his arrival—but not the attention one usually particularly craves or desires. Shock. Smothered, make-up caked, half-heartedly hidden disdain in their scowling mouths and crinkling eyebrows. In their winces and slanted, turned away faces. Adoration was rarely a thing attracted by a tramp, you see. People like Riku followed in the imprints of his boot heels, scurrying like albino rats over the path of his self-destruction. Wasted shells with desolate promise in their wandering gazes, liquid catastrophe in their fingerprint smears.

The air conditioning wafted down from the ceiling to Axel's shoulders, drifting over his face and caressing his ill-appearing body before falling flat to his shoes. His grim and biting smile tore through the inviting air of the shack, causing a chill ten degrees colder than desired to run through the atmosphere.

Okay, Axel had a right to be magnificently overdramatic. Because, fuck, if he _didn't_… what kind of free country would this place be?

A pair of blue eyes peeked just over the level of the counter, obscured only slightly by massacred kiwis. A pair of blue eyes rose ever higher, until they stopped, dead, a perfect picture of stillness. If the owner of those pretty little marbles had been some famous actor, he would have purred out a strangely fascinated legato note. As it stood, Roxas' big dreams only extended to, possibly, one day, owning this place. So, in light of this information, the sound that escaped the boy's lips was something very similar to, "uhwha…huh…." Respectively, of course. The sight of the red, splayed spikes against the cool tones of the wallpaper had him reeling, stunned. Not the jaw-dropping, love struck, infatuation at first sight stunned. The ugly, gaping, appalled remembrance stunned. His jaw sat a little unhitched, his eyes blinking in rapid disbelief. An image, if you will—he looked sort of the way in which one might imagine a skilled pianist (Bach or Beethoven, if you must) might appear as he is walking down the street, and his instrument, which he has indeed become very well acquainted with… comes crashing down on his very face.

A hand slapped fiercely against the plastic countertop, shaking Roxas of his unattractive, gaping fish appearance. The fingers long, a hint short of skeletal, pale—connecting to a tiny wrist and a willowy arm. Fusing with a shoulder, a torso…so much pale skin, tweaks of pink scars running lines across the flesh. Axel's smile ripped through the shack's manager like a rusty meat cleaver, and Roxas watched slowly as a hand became an elbow, resting in the middle of the counter.

"Hey," the redheaded assailant said, because hey was so maddeningly easy. "What's a guy gotta do to get some goddamn service around here, hm?" The tone took notes of warmth, easing out of his mouth in a way that didn't particularly suggest what he'd asked had been intended abrasively. The smile tugging on either side of his mouth, spreading like wildfire into the contours of his face, gave way to the fact that Axel had come in peace. On good terms, so to speak.

Roxas seemed to unhappily ignore this piece of information. It showed in his bunched shoulders, his taut, nervous little smile… the uncomfortable shifting of his weight.

xxx

_"Don't talk about this… ever again," he breathed._

_Blew blond spikes from his vision, kissed pink lips with a tenderness unmatched._

_Sunshine spilled like fireflies over their silken figures, a yawning lake stretched before them._

_"I'd never…"_

_They lay entwined like two angels amidst a cataclysmic, apocalyptic cosmos._

xxx

"Just ask, politely," Teeth grated together, not an altogether offensive remark, just closely drawing the line of anxious agitation. What he greeted his… 'friend' with, at its core, was apprehension.

Axel had, in his heart, more or less expected it—prepared for it, even. But even with his unwavering resolve, he couldn't ready himself for the verbal whiplash Roxas dished out. He hadn't factored in time spent recovering from stinging remarks.

"Look, Roxy, I know this is… awkward for you… I guess," despite his calculations, the redhead seemed to be groping for words, "but I was just… giving Riku a ride, and shit, I hadn't seen him in forever, it was an accident, really… and I was going to let it go, really I was, but then I was… in town, and I couldn't… go back without visiting you first. I just… it sounds kinda… fucking weird, I know it does. But I wanted to drop in on you… just... check up on you? It's really just…" The sigh that left his mouth sent his whole body in a saddening concave. His mouth twisted a degree.

Roxas' blue eyes dissolved into wells of guilt. Looking into that face, his heart filled with pins and needles, gushed with blood and regret. The triangles tattooed on that pretty, strange shade of pale flesh, staring at him—boring into his soul, like tiny whimpering purple eyes. What the hell.

"What do you want, Axel? I can get you something if you pay, but I'm a little busy at the moment and… yeah." The blond-haired boy sucked in a breath, pulling his body away. He distracted himself by picking up some dismantled fruit and tossing it in a blender, gnawing at his lower lip.

"Look, I… Roxas, just hear me out, please!" Both his skinny forearms hit the countertop with a little more enthusiasm than he had intended. Pressing onward, Axel hesitantly continued with, "You… looked like my mother did when she was nineteen…" And then a swallow, followed by a pause. Roxas already knew what came next. "Not afraid to die," he finished, green eyes pleading with Roxas' half turned away figure.

"Tch," Roxas managed, catching a brief glimpse of Axel in between the bananas. "For the last time, I'm not your _mother_, and… I was only nineteen… I'm still a firefly."

"Ha, fucker! You do remember! Oh, shit… am I not supposed to swear here? Fuck, oh… Roxas, can't you just take some time off? I wanted to… I thought maybe we could… talk. I thought maybe we could hang out, for… old time's sake, or… shit, or something. I don't know, I hadn't… I sort of… didn't know what to expect. Even… god, we could even talk about _Riku_, just… something?"

A sigh shuttled through Roxas' muscles. "I've got break in an hour. Come back then?"

Relief pooled through him like circulating blood through dry veins. "No. I refuse," Axel grated, then quickly smiled, "Of course. I've got some houses to toilet paper, here, anyway, so. See you, Roxy."

"See you," Roxas replied weakly, a rush of second-guessed emotions tacked to the syllables like a brief afterthought. Kairi sipped at her smoothie, perched in a chair near the ice machine, watching Axel slink to the exit out of the corner of her eye.

"So," she injected her voice into the sour silence, "gonna tell me who that was, Rockface?"

Roxas shrugged. "An old friend, I guess."

"Don't sound like _you_ find him too friendly," she commented lightly.

"Oh, no, it's just… things. Lots of things. It all gets rather… Thingy, after a while."

"I agree." Sip. "I think thingyness should be a certified condition. Like, like, oh. It'd get you out of so many days of work, you know? I could see it now. Doctor, _doctor_, I have too many _things!_" Here she began to mimic an older male's voice, "Things? Things, you say? What _kind_ of things?" Sip, sip. Back to her normal, if slightly more dramatic, voice. "And from the emphasis on things, he'd be like, 'oh, so you're a _hermaphrodite_?' with his stingy old tone. I mean, he'd be speaking in those snooty italics. And then you could be like, 'No, no, _no_, you foolish doctor, _thing_ things! Don't you know anything? Where'd you get your medical degree, anyway? Gosh.' I mean, but then he'd see the error of his ways and address you with the attention you needed ASAP. Or, stat, whatever those guys like to say. And he'd write you a note, that you were simply _incapable_ of attending work because you have so many… things like, attached to your brain and stuff."

Silence. Roxas snorted his laughter.

"Kairi?"

"Uh, yeah, what?"

"That has got to be the single most ridiculous thing I have heard all _week_. And you know what?"

"What?"

"Thank you."

A smile broke loose on those pretty lips. "Any time, powder puff." A small, plastic 'clack' sounded on the counter. The resounding echo of an empty cup. "Does this mean I get a free refill?"

A wet tongue darted between his lips, and another laugh floated through the atmosphere. He wondered if any of the other kids ordering here thought him insane.

"Not a chance."

"Huh, _fine_, but Roxas… if you ever come down with that weird thingy disease, and I'm some fancy doctor that comes up with the cure… I'm gonna think back to this day, _exactly_ this moment, and you know what? I'm gonna remember, 'Oh, Roxas, yes, Roxas… he didn't give me a refill after I graced him with my kind, generous, invaluable wisdom.' And _then_ I'm not gonna treat you, because… you were totally unreasonable towards me."

"Oh, Kai," Namine interjected softly, laughing delicately under her breath. "Give it a rest. You have the memory of a goldfish, anyhow."

"Hey!" A pout screwed up Kairi's face. "I do not! That is so unfair, and not true. I have the memory of an _elephant_."

"So, what was it we had for lunch?"

"Uh… hm, well. Wait, just give me a sec! I gotta tap into my brain cells, and like… hn."

"Sandwiches," Roxas announced. "You guys ate sandwiches."

"Was juuust about to say that, Roxas, thank you _very_ much." Kairi began digging around in her purse and tossed a couple coins Namine's way. "Strawberry me, Nam."

"As you wish."

"Oh, oldschool--are we all Buttercup and Wesley now? Because, you know, I definitely look _rad_ as a princess type deal and such and such."

A smile broke loose on Namine's lips, and while Roxas busied himself with breaking out into the open with a tray full of drinks and french fries, she sung out, "As yooouuuuu wiiiiissshhhhhhhhhh," while simultaneously turning on the ice machine.

An odd bunch, them--but against Roxas' natural pessimistic nature, they made him shine. This day wasn't so bad, now was it?

But oh how the cosmos loves to hear _that_ and rain on some parades. It's an irony thing.

Cue an entirely soaked teenager, clothes plastered to tanned skin, pushing his way through the entrance to the shack. A teenager with bright blue eyes, a bounce in his step (or, usually), and ridiculously brightly colored shoes. Sora, with drooping brown spikes for hair, scrapes painted ruthlessly across his cheek and knees, and dirt still lightly clinging to his battle scars. And if that wasn't enough--because it's never, _ever _enough--cue Roxas wondering why, oh _why_, in the universe Sora even stood there looking like that--and tripping to shell out thirty-something dollars worth of sticky, liquid merchandise all over the both of them. Not missing the tables in the sudden onslaught, either, and of course the _floor_. And the _customers_. Miraculously, in this zone of terror, the french fries knew to avoid conflict and confrontation by conveniently landing, tossed, in their basket, and back down, sliding across a table and missing the spray of smoothie by a mere centimeter. Well, the universe is required to have _some_ sense of humor, right?

"Holy... smoothie!" Olette censored herself before she could launch an array of curses, snatching close to a million napkins (those left undamaged by the vicious attack) in a few milliseconds. She began mopping up her outfit hurriedly, while the other hand busied itself piling a mountain of paper atop the spill on the table.

Sora could only cover his mouth, which hung unwontedly agape, his body frozen. There were strawberries and guavas smattered all over his legs, arms, and face, and in that moment he couldn't decide whether that, or lemons, would have been worse. In short, it stung. And, honestly, he would have laughed, had it not been so painful. But of course that was fine, as several chortles and giggles broke loose from the drenched and sticky customers.

Roxas bit his lip, staring half-angrily, half-apologetically at Sora, who now only looked like a dripping, slapped puppy. "God, Sora," it began condescendingly, but fizzled out, "what the hell, I'm _really_ really sorry. What _are_ you doing here? Nevermind, c'mon--go in back with Nami and get a new uniform. You can explain later."

With a nervous, almost self-depreciating laugh and a weak grin, Sora pulled himself away with a wavering, "Sure thing, boss-man." It bordered on pitiful.

Stepping away from the tables momentarily to turn off the radio, Roxas' voice raised several notches. "I'm terribly, horribly sorry for all of this mess. Please come back and order and I'll give you whatever you had last time... and a complimentary free smoothie for you or a friend upon your next visit. Again, my sincerest apologies on behalf of this wreck--it will be dealt with swiftly and professionally."

Kairi gently gripped his arm from behind, squeezing the muscles with her small, tapered fingers. "Never heard you get so rigid, Roxy," she told him in a whisper. When he turned his head to look at her, she added, "lemme help," and hopped down off the bar stool with little (if any) grace. "And by the way? If it were me, the damage woulda been _so_ much worse. Just so ya know."

So marked the day of the great battle of the fruits, and all six customers (seven if you happened to count Kairi, whom none of the employees chose to brand with that title) aided Roxas in wiping down counters, mopping up floors, and clearing tables. A boy they called 'Jazz' was rather a half-help, because every other moment he would reach over to munch on a fry--but it was free service with a smile, anyway.

On the other end of the store, located in the chillier back room, Sora stripped himself all the way down to his yellow boxers. Not neglecting the fact they were still drenched, and clung uncomfortably to his dirty skin. The brunet covered his biceps with his hands, rubbing them and appearing embarrassedly vulnerable. Namine delicately passed him a uniform and politely turned away--too quickly to survey the unsightly decorations that were inevitably displayed on his goose bump covered flesh. Sora slipped over toward the sink and briefly splashed and scrubbed himself off with a small sponge, and tossed the clothing on rather haphazardly. His hair--well, it looked nothing short of humorous.

"I'm finished," he announced with a sigh, which sounded a little more like an innuendo than he'd have liked.

Namine turned back to face him with a half-smile, on the verge of laughing, and then patted her friend's shoulder. "So. You know I'm going to ask. What _happened?_"

Brushing off his pants, Sora strode out of the back room, Namine curiously hanging by his side. "It's... a long story." A second of disgruntlement crossed his features, and in the next instant vanished. "I was... sort of hoping to talk to Kairi about it," he admitted sheepishly.

"Oh," she said, because she couldn't muster anything more intelligible. Smile, smile from shy little Namine. "Okay. I hope you feel better. Are you working today?"

"Didn't plan on it, but... yep. Seems that way."

"Awesome."

xxx

**Author's Note:**

SO, a little note on this chapter. If you think the ending is strange… okay! But, I don't. Which is a little weird, I think, because: this chapter was supposed to be incomprehensibly huge, and I was going to write more, but… I talked to my BFF (yes, bff, feel free to lol at me) and she said that if it felt like a stopping point to me, it probably was. So, in short, you get this chapter. And the ORIGINAL second part of this chapter… will be the next chapter. When you see the length of the second chapter, you might… thank me for splitting it up. Who knows. MAYBE YOU ALL DON'T CARE ANYMORE, GOSH. WAH. DRAMAFACE.

So, anyway. I tossed a few pop culture references in here for fun. I'll give you bonus points if you catch one. I PROMISE YOU, this has way more plot and character development coming, just hang in there! :c

I LOVE YOU ALL! Be safe, and review, because… it will make me happy.

I BROKE MY FOOT AND DESERVE SOME HAPPINESS.


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